Alis Propriis Volat
by Enemy Of Innocence
Summary: They left her behind. She should be dead – ain't supposed to draw another breath, for sure. Beth kept going, anyway. Never questionin' just what she was now. Daryl wouldn't recognize this stranger, but she had to see him again. Months of trekking up alone, sacrificing her innocence, and deeds she'd done force herself to forget, Beth ain't prepared to see her in Daryl's arms.
1. These wings are her own

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Beth was never shot. Instead, in the heat of the moment, the dirty police officers shove Beth into a walker they bring up under Dawn's orders. Beth gets bit, but wakes up after. Is she immune, or is it a slow death? No one's really too sure.

I stopped watching TWD after season 5 ended because of Beth's death, to be honest. I will pepper in newer season content where relevant, but this will be a complete divergence pretty much after Coda.

I've had this idea in my head for a while with my own OC, but I though, "what if?" And this story was born. Enjoy!

 _ **Chapter 1:**_ _These wings are her own._

Sunrise poked through the spaces between the trees Beth faced. A blend of all the shades she'd adored back on her family farm stretched along the abbreviated horizon. Silence swept through the hollowed clearing she claimed for camp – just outside a comfortable distance from Alexandria's walls. Only one hunter came out this far for the usual hunt – _him_. Her hammock in the trees hid her from view, and he had hardly any reason to look up into the trees when most of his prey ran along the forest floor.

Beth needed to know it was safe for her to return. For now, she watched, learned and waited for the group to earn their place in the safe zone. Something happened last night – a priest appearing to favor suicide killed both a dying man and the walker who bit him instead of accepting a bite for himself. She'd trailed him until he walked back into the compound, leaving the gate open. When his footsteps cut off, she felt her heart pound twice, almost painfully.

 _Walkers_.

So close. She walked the gate closed and stood outside of it, quietly moving from one walker to the next to stab them in their heads. _What kind a' monster willingly leaves the main entrance wide open?_

The walkers had left her forgotten – as usual. A small herd gathered around the gate, but Beth moved one-by-one until the lot of em' were gone. Footsteps approached.

"What the…" a familiar, masculine voice uttered. _Rick._ He was by the gate – likely noticing the lock was off.

Beth needed cover, knowing he could handle the last four walkers with ease if they got too close. His steps rushed closer to the gate, but she moved behind a car close to the white chapel just outside of the walls.

" _Fuck_ ," he said, grappling his gun to the ready. He'd seen the dead walkers. _Better them than me_. What happened tonight would determine her safety back into the group. She couldn't risk the compound lighting up a battle that would end in more death at her expense. Not anymore.

"Hello?" he shouted as she heard him grunt just before the sound of a body hit the hard Earth.

 _One_ , she counted.

He groaned before another body fell. _Two_. A snarl sounded…and another; however, two more thumps were easily heard. _Four_.

Although his footsteps were light, the heels of his shoes made a specific noise she easily tracked. He moved opposite of her hiding spot. "Who did this?"

Beth didn't stick around to find out. The last thing she heard was a woman's scream near the center of the homestead. She'd helped enough.

Today, Beth knew she needed to make contact either way. Her fingers itched to hold him again after endless months of being on her own.

 _You're gonna miss me so bad when I'm gone, Daryl Dixon._

Her throat tightened as her heart constricted. Heavy, glossy eyes looked up, seeing a skyline of treetops in place of the big open blue expanse. She'd leave her cache in her large green duffle bag in the treetops in case she needed backup.

She swung from the hammock to the large trunk, slowly sinking to sit on a nearby branch. She withdrew some jerky from her cargo pants and fought with the stale piece of cardboard until it conceded into her mouth. She chewed the wretched piece, the sound louder than she'd usually allow. The jerky swirled around her tongue a few times before she swallowed the flavorless crap. Eye twitching, she glanced to her left and to her right, seeing no one.

Amongst the whispering trees, chatty, distant birds, and occasional grasshopper chirp, Beth was very, _very_ alone.

These people lived like the damn apocalypse wasn't around. No doors she encountered were locked. A tree just a bit taller than the large compound wall was overlooked – even as she swung down into Alexandria. Beth knew a good number of people lived here, but hardly anyone patrolled the place. Signs led her to believe something last-minute called together the general population and was occurring as she crept low to the ground. She kept quiet behind houses, waited until a few stragglers passed before she followed them.

She climbed up the side of a house in order to leverage its height to watch from afar what was going on. Rick stood behind a man, his knife drawn. He shared words with an older woman for a good few minutes, occasionally looking out to the population present.

 _An execution_ , she gathered. _And a great distraction_.

She withdrew her binoculars from her small pack between her shoulders, searching for only one face. However, he was nowhere to be found. Sighing, she whipped the pack around and found her 18-inch cleaver strapped outside the pack. Opening it, she tossed the binoculars back in and reached around, feeling a small handgun with precisely three bullets, the rest of the jerky, and a small water bottle nearly empty. Grabbing none of those, she felt a bit more for her target: the seven-inch straight edge knife. She procured it from the pack and placed it sharp side out between her teeth as she readjusted herself before climbing back down.

When her feet lightly touched the ground, she placed her back against the white exterior house wall and glanced in every direction. Due three streets up and seven houses to the right was the house Daryl crashed at. He wasn't hunting today, but that didn't mean he would stick to his usual routine. _After all, someone was being killed this morning_. That hadn't happened – at least over the last eleven days of watching this place work.

Staying low and close to the houses, Beth maneuvered through the compound until she stood at the back door of the group's main house. She was home. _Finally_.

She quietly turned the knob and opened the door in a fluid motion, thankful for no squeaking. _Mercy, for once_. Almost as soon as she entered through the kitchen, she heard two distinct, different, and familiar voices – shouting? They were muffled and came from upstairs. Beth's hand trailed along the hard, clean granite countertop in awe. How long had it been since she'd seen a clean kitchen?

 _Had it really been since the family farm?_

Beth's bright blue eyes shifted across the room, admiring the lovely fixtures and décor staged around the space. The only clutter was a few loose guns, spare bullets, and a recipe book. She'd entered into an alternative timeline.

A piece of her loosened up, relaxing. Creature comforts no longer familiar starting to come into her mind again, Beth's mouth curled upward. She closed her eyes, swearing she could taste freshly baked cookies in the air, lingerin' pleasantly in her nostrils.

Loud footsteps pounded toward the staircase, snapping Beth out of her temporary bliss. In a rush, she glanced around her, fingers stretchin' as she rushed away from the kitchen and into a nearby hallway. She quickly shifted into a nearby coat closet and curled her hand, realizing her knife remained on the counter. _Drat!_

As she closed the door silently, a gruff, deep voice shouted, "You ain't trying to help me, woman!"

"Daryl," a woman said, sighing. _Carol?_ "You've put yourself in danger and even hurt yourself at the expense of Beth's memory!"

Struggling sounded when bodies pounded the walls just outside the closet, closer to the living room part of the house. "Don't say that name!"

"Beth's _gone_ , Daryl…" Carol said, voice quiet and strained.

"Don't!" Daryl uttered. Beth heard a loud bang against an adjacent wall. "Don't say her name…"

Beth heard their breathing from within the dark closet. She could almost see his shoulder raise and lower while his body shook. She'd seen him once like that. His voice sounded as it did now.

"What do you want from me, Carol?" he whispered. Their exhales were getting louder – almost panting.

Beth's eyes watered. She covered her mouth with a shaky hand as she shook her head and closed her eyes.

"I've always only wanted to help you," she replied breathlessly. She sucked in a hissin' breath and moaned quietly. "You know what I want, Dixon. What I've wanted."

A frozen moment haunted the house, only disturbed by racing, loud pants and an avalanche held in place by only a strand of thread. Something shoved against the closet door and she heard Daryl grumble incoherent things as he groaned against Carol's loud moans.

The base of her throat burned from a propelling force erupting from her stomach. The force jerked her back against the wall, but the noise had no effect on the two against the door. The door stopped rattling when she heard one pair of footsteps walk toward the living room. Something slammed down onto the couch as sounds of ripping fabric infiltrated Beth's ringing ears.

 _She was defenseless, drifting. No weapons, no food, no water…no life left in her. The bite mark on her shoulder ached like the devil done poured lava on it. Her whole body was sheathed in thick, beading layers of sweat. Her clothes were drenched._

 _The herd was faster than her. They'd catch her with no trouble. Her knees wobbled, buckling. She opened her vocal chords, trying to release the staggerin' pain in her knees and elbows, but her swollen throat sealed it all in tight. Lifting her head, she bear crawled a few paces until she bowed her head in defeat._

" _Daryl_ ," Carol chanted. Over. And. Over. Again.

 _With every bit of strength she had left, she flipped onto her back and sobbed. One name brushed her lips, but her vocal chords sliced at her throat, causing her to wince back. The herd's snarls approached._

 _This was how Beth Greene would die. Not by a walker's bite, not by the fever, not trying to save Daryl or her family. Certainly not with another soul._

 _Alone. Chased. Deserted._

Beth withdrew her cleaver from her pack's side, unlatching the snaps and holding the long blade unsteadily in her shaking hands. She needed to get far away from here. The aged bite mark left on her shoulder scorched, and her vision went fuzzy despite being drenched in darkness.

 _They stepped on her, walked over her, ignored her._

Beth turned the knob and shoved the door open, eyes settling on a stiff-backed Daryl covering Carol's naked chest. His eyes met hers when his head snapped toward the closet. Through his long bangs, she saw his deeper blue hues despite the distance. She'd gone and done plastered to nearly every corner in her mind.

His shirt was torn in half, but still on. She was in the arms that had once anchored her into this messy, horrific reality.

 _Alone. Chased. Deserted._

A shiver broke through her spine. A distant snarl echoed in her mind. A walker was nearby – inside the compound.

 _Ignored her._

She don't have time to dwell on things of her past. With the snarl comes a cry for help, the noise eroded and crumbling in her brain. She held her cleaver out to Daryl as she backed into the kitchen. He remained motionless. His lips moved again and again, but the words were silenced by shouting – cries for help.

Near the back door, Beth grasped the knife left on the counter and held up her cleaver in front of her. She moved until two large arms grappled her from behind. She bent her knees and shoved her body off the floor, trying to catch him off balance, but he held her steady. When he reached for her blades, she fumbled with the straight-edged small knife and jabbed it into his outer thigh.

Steeled arms fumbled and she quickly turned around, seeing a large, red-haired tank of a man stumble out of the back door. She jerked the handle of her cleaver into his forehead and kicked his stomach, shoving his ass backward onto the grass outside. She knelt down and collected her small knife from him and rushed down the small hill toward the shouting, knowing the ringing would only grow louder the closer she got to wherever the walker stalked.

Flashes of the walker's viewpoint spiked a sharp pain at her forehead. She buckled over and held her fists by her temples, shouting but not hearing a sound. People walked past the monster – out of its path.

It was hunting her now. The connection pulled it toward her.

 _"…drain you of every last drop. You are the cure, but you won't live to see another pretty sunrise…"_

 _Dirty, filthy, damaged. She caused all this madness. If only she'd left that woman to die. This man wouldn't be hurting…torturing her right now. She got too comfortable._

 _Alone! She needed to be alone!_

How on God's green Earth could she turn this off? She didn't ask for this – any of it.

Someone caught her from behind, lifting her off the ground. Her lips moved, but her ears couldn't quite hear anything. A wash of heat poured over her skin, sweat dewing over her flesh – thin, but quick. Each muscle in her body swelled, sinking her body's weight further into the depths of hell.

The change!

Beth needed to kill the walker before she lost herself to all the sorrow, the agony, the _heat_.

She stumbled, somehow freeing herself from the person's grip. A face flashed in front of her – her vision. Not the walker's this time. She tilted her head straight back and jammed her head into the person's before her.

The ringing intensified, but so did the fever. Her hands landed in the dirt. Crawling – she was crawling now, but fighting to stay standing. She felt the cleaver's weight in her hand, which coiled tighter against the handle. Breathing turned problematic, the air the weight of hardened steel traveling down her throat.

The walker's view flashed, replacing her vision. She saw herself in the distance, leaning against an iron fence and using it to help her walk. Familiar faces trailed behind her. Rick and Carl entered off from the side. They were still pretty far away, though. Strides long and swift, Daryl emerged from a house obstructing him from the walker's eyes. He was _so_ close.

Daryl grabbed her, but she didn't feel his hands on her body. She felt nothing.

No one saw the walker. All eyes remained on her commotion. Daryl tried stopping her from behind, turning her and lifting her chin higher. Beth yearned to feel his warmth again, but all she saw was him step away from her, causing her to fall on her ass.

 _I ain't a walker! All I gotta do is wake up!_

Rick turned his head the moment Beth extended her arm toward the walker. Rushing toward her…the walker, rather, the pain washed away and she filled her lungs with the biggest, most painful inhale of her life.

Beth coughed a bit, dropping her cleaver on the ground to her side. She weakly rolled over, catching the open blue sky in her eyes. Despite some of the worst aches she nursed in a while, she smiled softly as her eyes released warm tears.

She was home, but she was hardly happy. Her pack arched her back awkwardly, causing her breathes to be sharper than normal. She groaned when hands coiled around her tiny wrists, dragging her up. The ringing gone, she clearly heard her yelp. Her side hurt.

"BETH!" Maggie shouted too closely to her ear. Her hands trembled against Beth's cheek as she steadied Beth's face to look at her older sister.

 _She was as good as dead to her sister. Those signs ain't said nothing bout no Beth._

 _Too tired to fight for now…_

"How are you here?" Maggie said, sobbing and nearly hyperventilating. "They saw you die!"

"Bit…fell…left behind," she replied, straining against her unused vocal chords. It had been weeks since she'd spoken anything above a whisper. Either way, those four words summarized what happened quite nicely.

Her eyes closed, and the endless darkness shrouded her.

"How are you still alive?" Maggie repeated from the opposite side of the cell. Beth sat in the furthest corner from the light. "You're bit!"

Beth remained silent. She hand't one nice thing to say to her sister. Daddy always said you couldn't ever take words back.

Maggie threw herself on the ground and crawled to the side of the cell, hands fisting the bars tightly. "That ain't possible…"

She was safe, for now. Ain't no connection starin' unless her emotions flared beyond her control. To Beth, Maggie made herself clear back in Georgia. Daddy beheaded and prison overrun, she didn't stop for one minute to _try_.

No one thought about Beth. They all had ignored her – written her off to take care of Judith.

 _Judith!_

For months, Beth thought of the sweet baby girl. Never hers, but always hers. She prayed the baby was safe.

Maggie leaned her forehead against the bars, the noise bouncing around the small space. She just sat there and cried. Her older sister forced her to watch her break down – as if it mattered much anymore. Beth wasn't affected, though. She'd hardened her heart a long time ago – probably the moonshine night or somewhere around then.

The door opened, Glenn emerging from the corridor outside. He collected Maggie, who tried fighting him off, but ultimately gave into him. Her brother-in-law left the door open.

"Rick…I just need to see her," Daryl said loud enough for her to hear plainly. She felt her heart rush a bit, but she closed her eyes and exhaled. She couldn't think about what she saw. Not right now.

"That ain't gonna be possible till we know for sure what's going on," she heard Rick gently say before he entered the room and shut the door behind him.

Rick looked clean, looked good considering the looming apocalypse. Daddy trusted him through the end. Beth respected the hell outta him, too. He'd kept her alive plenty a' times to have her respect. Beth just didn't know if she could ever be loyal to the family again.

He grabbed the chair, flipping it around so that his arms crossed over the back of it casually. He tilted his head down and eased in with a smile. "I have a lotta questions, Beth."

"Let's start with the basics, then," Beth politely said, her voice rough slightly.

Clearing his throat, Rick nodded. "How many walkers have you killed?"

"Hundreds." She paused, considering her answer. "Perhaps closer to a thousand by now."

"How many people have you killed?" he questioned almost immediately.

Although she'd expected this question, the truth horrified her. Steeling her heart, Beth exhaled calmly. "Too many."

"Why?"

She looked him square in the eye. "I woke up after I got bit. Met a few groups along the way here. Plenty of 'em thought they could hurt me to benefit their group in one way or another."

Rick swallowed. "And the ones who didn't want to hurt you?"

"They either died in the crosshairs of my escape or I didn't give them the chance to hurt me. I always moved at night, often in herds. I learned it was best if I kept to my own."

"You moved in herds?"

Beth nodded. "No one would think to approach them."

"No, my question was…"

"I know what you meant," she said, firmly.

The sheriff drew his brows together, staring at her.

"Walkers only know I exist when the connection opens."

"The connection?"

Beth looked away. "I've gathered I'm vulnerable when my emotions are unstable."

Rick stood up, shoving the chair away from him. After a small while, he knelt down on the ground and met her on her level. "How many times you been bit?"

"Twice," she said, swallowing. "The connection triggers a stronger fever the more I'm bit. It's harder to pull away from."

"How long ago?"

"Over three weeks."

His breathing slowed. Reaching around to his backside, he withdrew the cell door key. "You ain't turnin', Beth." When she shook her head in reply, he smiled somewhat sadly. "You're daddy would've had our heads for locking you away like this."

When he started to unlock the cell, she quickly moved, grabbing the opening door and pulling it closed. "Why are you lettin' me go?"

Rick's eyes warmed, never letting go of her gaze. "You're family, and you saved a lot of people last night."


	2. The surface ain't deep enough

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

Enjoy!

 _ **Chapter 2:**_ _The surface ain't deep enough._

"These walls ain't good for anything if people can get in n' out with ease," Beth said, her features loose and eyes glued to Rick, who leaned back against large wood log along the perimeter of the raging fire. Beth strung her hands through the ends of her hair, hatin' that she cringed while feeling all the split ends there.

Rick lifted his hands, lacing them behind his head. Sighing, he glanced over to Michonne, who smiled sweetly to him. Beth's blue eyes stared at that smile. She'd seen something similar back at the prison, but this was different. "Defense is our top priority, then," Rick replied. The orange embers flickered over the two of them, illuminating soft edges Beth hadn't seen in Rick's features. Ever.

They were happy.

"Can't get cozy, though." Beth thought they needed a gentle reminder. The prison fell when nobody noticed anything going wrong. Daddy died because of it – not that she'd ever blame that on anybody. Their group failed him. It was on all of 'em.

Footsteps sounded from the right. Beth turned her head, peering over her shoulder and seeing Carl and Daryl glancin' down at a gun. Their voices deflated when they saw her. Beth dropped her eyes from them when Daryl's heavy, hidden gaze landed on her. She'd avoided him all day. Luck expired hours ago. She knew he'd been instructed to stay away from her, too.

"Carl, why don't you go with him to check the wall?" Rick said, voice controlled, precise. _Calculated_.

This was ridiculous. Beth reached out for Carl, grabbin' onto his sleeve and tugging gently. "Why don't you stay?"

Michonne straightened next to Rick. Swallowing, she tapped Beth's shoulder, quietly asking, "It wouldn't hurt to check one more time?"

Beth smiled with ease. It'd been forever since she'd spoken to Carl – forever since she'd seen him. He was alive, well. Why not take advantage of the time they'd been gifted. Besides, they couldn't tiptoe around her forever, neither. She wasn't the suicidal teen girl she'd been back on her farm. There weren't no need to treat her like a fragile princess. She'd come too far to go back now.

"I wouldn't mind 'em staying for a while. I got good food in my belly and a nice night's sleep. I'm fine," Beth assured.

Michonne and Rick shared a look. It was _that_ look. Beth had seen similar looks along her way up. They didn't see her as an adult. Her decisions or wants simply didn't have the same weight to theirs. In any other place, that'd been fine. However, Beth threw her soul to hell to sit beside them.

 _Weren't that enough?_

Whatever Rick said to Carl, the growing teen ignored, sitting beside Beth with a carefree grin sent her way. Rick grumbled, but Carl bumped his shoulder into hers before throwing his arm around the middle of her back, elbow resting on the log she leaned against. Through clenched teeth, Beth sucked in, hissing loudly at the prickles gnawing at the flesh under his rough touch.

Carl shied away from her. "I did nothin'!"

Beth crossed her legs, tryin' to chuckle lightly. "I fell out of a' tree a while back. I guess it ain't fully healed, yet."

Rick tilted his chin toward her. "We have medicine, Beth."

"So do I." They didn't need to waste any of it on her.

Michonne glanced to her, brow raised and mouth tight. "You do?"

Beth swallowed as her throat swelled slightly. "I've been in the area now nearing two weeks. I set up camps around the area. I got a few caches, too."

"You been here two weeks, girl?" Daryl said, voice louder than the cracking fire between them. Beth glanced at him. She hadn't heard him sit down, but sure enough, he sat at the opposite log. The fire's smoke distorted his body, which seemed to move back and forth in quick, sudden movements. She couldn't tell if he breathed as deeply as he appeared. The edges of the snapping fire, lightened parts of his face while others darkened. His mouth hung open slightly.

Beth squirmed, raising her knees together to wrap her arms around them and rest her chin on them. Her gaze dropped from his to the fire. "I don't know these people. I watched for a few hours the first day I got here. Saw plenty a' things. Didn't appear you had much welcome here at first."

"How much supplies you got?" Carl asked her.

Beth smiled, mouth gentle and her low hum smooth. _My empire's all yours, girl_. "An inheritance."

"What?" Who said it, she couldn't make out. Maybe some of 'em said it. Didn't matter.

"I met a small group just before Richmond. Things started rough, but when the group ran into a herd, me and one other made it out alive. We stayed together a while until…His group was all inmates. They'd survived this long by building up a drug network. Their consumers basically remained loyal to 'em cause a' that reason."

Carl looked most interested. His eyes were bright and posture all scrunched toward her. "How in the world did you inherit stuff?"

Beth glanced around. Michonne's gaze was no longer pleasant. She was swallowin' too much. Rick's fists curled. Beth's fingers fidgeted with the button on her plaid long-sleeved shirt. When the buttons relented, she pulled her sleeve up, revealing three words etched in ornate, swirly cursive: _Alis Propriis Volat._ Along the outside of her arm near her wrist, the words flashed a deep, sad laughter in the hollows of her mind – only briefly.

"What does it mean?" Carl asked, hands reaching for her to inspect it closer.

Beth cleared her throat. "She flies with her own wings."

"Why the tattoo?" Rick asked.

"I'm…" Beth gulped. "It's the mark of the gang leader…"

" _Cool_ ," Carl said.

Rick laughed, his tone clipped and his eyes glancing in all directions. "So you inherited a drug ring."

 _We have medicine, Beth._

 _So do I._

Beth's chest hardened as her eyes widened. "I ain't done no drugs, Rick. I wouldn't purposely do nothing to dishonor my daddy." Perhaps her innocence wasn't fully gone. Her stomach squished, a light tickle settling over her torso. "Can you imagine me doin' that?" she said aloud.

Michonne clasped her hands together. "That sure is quite an image to picture."

Beth lightly scratched at the tattoo, still moderately itchy. "Anyway, Becker gave me the locations of most of their caches in case I ever change my mind about all that…" she said, mostly wanting to fill the silence. "I took some of it in case I ran into any trouble the last few hundred miles. Came in handy once or twice, though I'm sure I gave those people way too much. I don't know nothin' bout drugs, of course…"

"Get anythin' _besides_ that?"

Beth's bright eyes settled on Daryl. "I grabbed some huntin' gear, trap supplies, food, water, tents, hammocks, and such. A couple of their guns and a good portion a' their ammo, too…" Beth replied. "They had a shop…made their own bullets I think."

"How many bullets?"

Now she looked to Rick. _Was she sayin' too much?_ "I haven't had a chance to count, but at least a couple thousand."

"That's a lot for one girl to carry up all that way," Daryl interrupted. Beth slid her eyes back to him. His hair had grown quite a bit. It seemed darker, but somehow exactly the same. He had a jacket on underneath his sleeveless angel wing vest. Her back itched again.

"They had a huge truck and several tanks a' gas I pilfered. It's hidden several miles west a' here with a few of my other supplies."

Daryl chuckled, nostrils flaring. "You're getaway car. In case you decided to run away." He was accusin' her. Rightly so. He wasn't wrong.

"I didn't know if you were all here. I had to take my chances and play it all as safe as possible."

"You did good," Rick interjected, his voice loud and chest puffed. His eyes were on Daryl. Between the two of 'em, things were being said, but no words were spoken. Finally, he turned to Beth. "I'm sure you know we're in good need of those bullets."

"I got more than just bullets."

"How much more?"

Beth sighed, lowering her tensed shoulders trying to relax a bit. "I raided an overrun military base a few days ago. There's plenty more there I couldn't take with me."

"What's included with that stockpile?"

"I took whatever I could carry. Small objects I think are bombs, grenades, a couple small guns, and a few knives…"

"All of that by yourself?" Michonne asked. The inflection on her last word surprised Beth. Was she impressed?

Beth looked down, pulling her sleeve down without buttoning it. "Walkers don't pay me much mind. I ain't sure why, but I can go a lot a' places others can't."

Rick laughed, almost snorting. "Beth, you may never know how much of a blessin' you are."

Beth tensed. "How bad are things here?"

"They can get the worst pretty quick if don' secure this damn place," Daryl said.

Beth picked at the cuticle around her thumbnail, biting her lip. "I'll show you my caches and camps if it'll really help the group." She sure as hell didn't need it all.

Rick's eyes widened almost as much as his smile did. He grabbed Michonne by the shoulders and rocked her back and forth a bit. "Things are turnin' up." She turned her head to look at Rick, reaching her hand to cover his.

She'd missed so much. Were they together? What happened between 'em? She supposed it was easier to care about others when you believed you were safe. On the road, all focus was on survival – the day-to-day. "I can take you to the closest site now, if you want."

"Nights are dangerous," Rick said – as if that should explain something he hadn't said yet.

Beth nodded. "Exactly. It's easier to move with everyone holed up."

His eyes twitched. "We'll start at dawn."

"I need to go back to my campsite for something anyway."

"Can't it wait till morning?" Michonne asked.

Beth's brows drew downward. "Not really. You all locked me up most a' yesterday and spent all of today babysittin' me."

"We're hardly babysitting you, Beth."

Beth squared her jaw, snapping her shoulders back. "Rick, I've been at your side all day."

"I showed you how to shoot at your request," he said, as if that should be the end of the discussion. When she cocked her head, he rolled her eyes. "Besides, I needed you to help show me the weak points in our walls."

"Anybody with eyes could see 'em, Rick," she said, voice trembling and weak. "I ain't a walker." Her eyes were heavy, filling with a thick sheet of moisture. "I ain't gonna turn unless the connection's not severed in time."

When Rick started to stand, Michonne held him down, shaking her head a bit until she looked at her. "It was my idea, Beth." Before she could reply, Michonne sighed. "We don't know your condition…how vulnerable you are."

"I understand _that_ ," Beth said. "I can take care of myself is all."

Michonne narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. "If you can take care of yourself, then why come back?"

The urge to look Daryl's way tortured her, but she resisted. "Ain't nowhere left for me to go." It wasn't quite a lie. Daddy always said lying wasn't any good, but it weren't the whole truth.

"We needed to know if you were unstable. You said your emotions make you sensitive. We have so many lives counting on us to protect them," Michonne said, words nearly fading underneath the loud fire's crackles.

"Just because my emotions make me vulnerable don't mean I can't feel at all, Michonne." A tear slid down her cheek, past the large scar on her cheek, but she swiped at it before it could fall further. Clearing her throat, Beth stood up. "I was going to ask if Carl could help, but since it's night, I suppose I can take Daryl."

"Ain't gotta ask twice," he said, gravel rumbling low in his throat. He stood to his feet and started walking toward his house.

"Wait!" Rick shouted. "We wait for dawn!"

Beth turned to him, eyes vicious, shiny, and wide. Wiping at her lashes, she sniffled. "I'm just fine, Rick!" She stood and shook her head. Before she turned away, she met Rick's hard hues affixed to her own. "I'm _strong_. I fought. I _killed_ , Rick. People hurt me…tried to _kill_ me – several times over." She placed her hands over her body, patting a few times. "But I'm here." Her voice cracked, but she remained resilient. She pointed to the ground by her feet. "I'm here, Rick."

Rick looked passed Beth, over her shoulder. "We need Daryl for a run planned in the morning."

Daryl stepped closer, directly behind her. His body heat radiated onto her, his breath hittin' her ear. "Find someone else, Rick." It was a challenge. She'd know that tone anywhere. That was all he spoke, but she _felt_ what he was wordlessly saying at her back…without understandin' a any of it. These men had their own code or somethin'. Always had, but especially now.

He grabbed her arm, just above her elbow. His warmth permeated through the sleeves of her shirt. "Let's go, girl."

Beth followed him, not shrugging him off. She snapped her head around as he spun her body in the direction he stalked off in, eyes where his hand clutched her. She dragged on a step behind him off to his side. Her eyes went to his vest, fading wings front and center in her gaze.

"It's nice havin' your eyes on me again…"

Beth snapped her eyes up to his turned head. He stared down at her. Did they just go on like yesterday hadn't happened? Was she supposed to act like nothin' changed…that she hadn't been bit? He slowed, pulling them out of Rick's sight around the corner of a nearby house. He leaned up against it, hand never leaving her arm.

His thumb started rubbing her, up and down. Back and forth. Slowly. Noticeably slowing, but unending. A shiver stunted her exhale. "We ain't gonna pretend everythin's peachy, Beth," he whispered. His eyes darkened underneath his curtain of bangs hiding them. The light above them did little to help her see him fully. Shadows concealed most of his face, since he looked down to her. He lifted his fingers to trace the scar on her cheek. She watched his throat bob swiftly. "We can't start over – ain't gonna go backwards. But we gotta start somewhere…"

It didn't mean they would ignore everything. It just meant neither was quite ready to pick back up the pieces. Her eyes dropped to his hand, seeing a nearly perfect circle on his skin near his thumb. She reached for his hand, rubbing her fingers over the spot. She didn't recognize it. "What's this from?"

Daryl snatched it away, clearing his throat. She didn't touch him, stifling her habit of reaching for him when he'd pull away from her. Beth backed away. She wouldn't hover. "I'll tell you everything, Daryl. One day, you'll know me again." She looked at her boots. "I…" she said, clearing her throat, "I hope I can know you again someday."

The wind blew, but all she felt on her was his eyes. Eventually, he stood away from the wall, saying, "Somewhere?"

"Somewhere," Beth added, voice low, but hopeful.

Silence.

Between another bracket of moments, it settled over them – comfortable, familiar even. Every so often, Beth paused, shoving her flashlight in one direction and whisper, "Walker." Not too many tonight. Neither wanted to draw much attention beyond her light, so Daryl shot his bolts at them. Beth slowed or stopped, waiting for him to reclaim his bolt and find his way back to her.

Daryl hadn't asked how she could know the walkers were getting close – even though they hadn't gotten more than fifty feet of 'em. Beth couldn't explain it, anyway. She just _knew_ when they came close. The distance seemed to fizzle out anywhere beyond seventy feet or so. A little over an hour into the forest, Beth tipped the light up, seeing her hammock peeking through.

"You been up there? I walk right through here on some a' my huntin' runs," Daryl asked, not caring about the loudness of his voice.

Tilting her head back, Beth's eyes narrowed. "This tree's stump opens up all the way up there. Ten feet into it is where this stash is…attached to a thick rope tied to the outside trunk. The bag has back straps on it, but I'm thinkin' I'll give you the honors."

Daryl softly chuckled. "Just usin' me for my muscles, girl?"

It was one a' those times when she just didn't know if a hidden message lied beneath his words' surface. Beth looked down, over to him. His eyes came down to her, his smile vanishing. Months back, she'd ignore the message – because she so easily knew exactly what he used to mean underneath what he'd _say_. Things were different now. Maybe she'd changed too much to decode him anymore.

Perhaps they just needed time to find each other again.

 _"_ _When you find this man again, Beth, you ain't gonna let 'im go, okay?" Becker muttered through the fever. Beth's eyes were puffy. She could a' saved him, but he wanted to die._

 _Her silence distracted him. "You listenin'?"_

 _Beth shook her head. "I am, Beck." She shoved her hand under her nose as she sniffled. "He would a' thought you were decent, you know. Like I do."_

 _"_ _You don't know what I'd done, girl."_

 _Distracted_. Beth chided herself. She couldn't afford a mistake. Daryl still looked at her, eyes brimming with questions she actually could read. He didn't press her.

"You good to go?" he asked.

Beth nodded. "I'll climb up halfway in case you need backup."

"Welp…" Daryl said, a tired sigh accompanying his bracing tone. "Age before beauty, I guess."

Daryl hoisted himself up the tree with limited ease. He grunted a lot and swore under his breath even more. Eventually, he got to the top, peeked over into the tree and tugged on the rope, illuminated by the flashlight Beth lent him.

Halfway down, Beth lowered her head, seeing nothin' but darkness in every direction. Her heart clenched about six times, sporadically. "Walkers," she said loud enough for him to hear from up at the top.

Daryl shifted the bag over each shoulder, lookin' down she thought. "How many?"

"Three."

"Ain't nothin'."

Beth bit her lip. "Without the flashlight, I can't tell where they're comin' in from."

She heard him slowly come down back to her. More grumbling and cursing caused her to smile gently. "This shit's heavy, girl."

"We'll take turns lugging it back to camp."

He was above her, so she balanced on the thick branch while holding onto a higher one for stability further out so he could fit. The flashlight was in his mouth now. He held onto the bag and the tree, so he extended his neck out to her. She reached for the flashlight, fingertips brushin' his lips briefly. She held herself together and didn't jerk back.

Flashlight in hand, Beth tilted it downward. Three walkers prowled around their tree. As soon as the light hit them, they snarled. Daryl reached across her to hold onto the same branch she gripped. "Take the bag for a sec. Pass me my bow." Beth forgot about the bow she had across her back.

She reached one arm to the bag, shruggin' it onto her arm to support the bag. Meanwhile, he reached over her shoulder to tug at his crossbow secured around her body. With gentle ease, he shimmied it over her shoulders in sync with her accepting more of the bag's weight. His arms were around her. All he needed to do was pull it over her.

Bold eyes swept over hers. She could see his even in this wretched darkness. He was _so_ close – felt closer than he'd ever been to her. As she sighed, her body shook, causing the breath to stint to sound like she was shivering.

Maybe she was.

It had been too long since the last time anyone pushed her to feel this much. The difference was, at any point before the prison's fall, she hadn't. Not _this_. When all this started, she'd needed something. Never realizing what that _something_ was, she'd thrown herself into Jimmy and then Zach. Both were taken too soon. She'd always miss them, but not quite as badly as she'd once thought. Was she a bad person for admittin' that? She yearned for her daddy to be there with her. He'd know what to tell her to make her okay again.

Age hadn't ever come up much since the looming days of the dead arrived. Carl, a child much a few years her junior, shot, killed, and bled. Just like all the adults protecting them. It might've takin' her a while, but she was no longer that helpless girl.

That _somethin_ ' was stalking over her halfway up this tree. The way his eyes pooled, sizzling with an unfamiliar emotion she just didn't know what to do with, captured her mind and clutched her heart till it touched her rib bones, painfully beating away endlessly. Her toes grew numb, but Beth couldn't find it in her heart to care for the moment.

Daryl was speakin' to her in tongues – a new language only she was too stupid to understand. He hadn't said anything. She would've known, too. She was staring right at his lips close to her nose. He was sayin' things to her she just couldn't coherently comprehend.

Daryl was at least thirty, she supposed closer to thirty-five if not well over. Beth knew she was around nineteen. Before she'd been taken from him, things had been normal – easy. They moved in sync after they found their understandin'. It hurt she couldn't read him all that well anymore.

The longer she fixed in on his mouth, the clearer Carol came into mind. They'd been so close at the prison. Beth's lack of experience propelled Carol into him in a way she knew meant trouble for her in some way.

"Take her out a' your head now, girl," Daryl whispered.

Beth's stomach clenched as her body began to shake. She felt him accept the bag's weight onto his shoulders. He still listened to her frequency. He understood her. Beth wished she could hear his echo again. She'd been waitin' for it long enough. Tears poured over her lashes and onto her cheeks. Her brows drew close. When she lifted her eyes, she saw his eyes spilling, too.

"Daryl," Beth said, the walkers' snarls almost drownin' out her completely. "I feel too much." She didn't know what all it was in her chest, but she knew it was too much, and that frustrated her all the way to heaven and back.

"Beth, now ain't near the damn time, but Carol ain't nothin', ya' hear?"

His bangs brushed her forehead as a smooth breeze blew through them. The texture of it was different. Maybe because it was clean for once. His wisps brushed up again, and she fell into him, wrapping her arms until her hands joined behind him low on his back. Her head tucked right under his chin.

Her chest heaved. "That don't matter, Daryl."

He must have turned his head, because Beth felt his lips move against her head. "Matters to me, a' right?"

The wind picked up, causing Beth to shiver against him. He hadn't lied to her. At least after they left the prison together. Somehow, though, Beth doubted him – however minimally. A part of her almost didn't want to believe him. Closing her eyes, Beth moved her head up, seeing the huntin' hammock. "Let's camp here tonight?"

Daryl didn't reply. He just looked down and swallowed, his shoulders pivoting to get his bow around her. With a nod, she went up first, but not before claiming the bag and handin' him the flashlight. Up at the top, she tied the rope back around the handles and slid it back into the hollowed tree. He was behind her, but moved onto the hammock.

Holding his crossbow with one hand, he held out his other for her. Once she steadied herself, she grabbed onto him and curled up by his side. He laid his crossbow by his feet, but kept it in his hand. His other arm looped around her lower back, thumb moving like it did back in the compound. "Sleep. I'll take first watch."

Almost immediately, she complied – except she didn't wake up for her watch.


	3. Maybe these wings are broken

_**Chapter 3:** Maybe these wings are broken._

Beth's eyes snapped open in unison with a sharp inhale. Immediately at the center of her vision was a red bird, hopping along the high edge of the hammock gently swaying back and forth in a soft lull. Hand fisted at Daryl's rising and falling chest, she gulped. Eyes tracked the bird up and down as it chirped lightly, seemingly ignorant of the horrors on the surface below.

Liquid warmth solidified in nearly every space of her body, strengthening her unsteady heart and centerin' her focus from the dazzling daze of slumber. Beth's mouth twitched into a small smile. Blinking, she felt a wretched cramp along her back down to almost her knees. This hammock wasn't made for two. Now she knew why.

Craning her neck, Beth saw Daryl's face leanin' against the raised hammock sides. A wash of bright, warm sunlight hit her face, temporarily blinding her. The rustling treetops moved in the passing breeze, offering mild cover from the harsh sunlight just above them. When her eyes caught some shade, she saw him staring at her. Her smile nearly evaporated right off her face. A cord running from her toes to her brain pulled tight, muscles tightenin' and hands clenchin' more than she thought was possible.

"No…" she said, a low grumble distorting her vocal cords a bit. She shot up and reached for the nearby trunk.

Daryl stretched to grab her hand. "Beth?"

Snatchin' it back from him, she maneuvered through the branches down to the trunk's opening. Yanking on the thick rope, she claimed the large green duffle bag.

 _Refocus, regroup, reimagine_.

Large hands grasped at her shoulders, but she shied out of 'em. Another person entered into her brain, switchin' some sort a' autopilot mode or something. Beth remained diligent in her effort to gettin' the bag over her shoulders toward the ground. The bag's weight was largely ignored, save the misstep on a weak branch, which broke as soon as he foot landed on it. She quickly recovered and stumbled to her knees on the ground. The impact jerked her knees in an unfamiliar, disjointed way, but she was all right.

Almost a second after her landin', Daryl stuck his own landin' with a bit more finesse. Nearing her made her look at her trembling hands, which busied with fumbling with the bag's zipper.

"Beth?" Daryl repeated, the word brimming with choked emotion uncharacteristic to him. His voice was all scratchy and a bit too rough. Under no circumstances would Beth look up at Daryl. She couldn't afford to. His shakin' hands caught her from behind, dragging her heavy, limp body up with him. He said her name again, and gripped her tighter when her ear was next to his mouth. His chest was quakin' something awful. "Don't pull away from me, girl," he said, the words no more than a whisper.

"I ain't pullin' away from you, Daryl!"

He didn't let her go. "Then what the fuck do you call what you're doin'?"

"Nothin's right anymore. I just need some space," she said, her shoulder wigglin' in attempt to get away from him.

 _"AHHH!"_

 _Beth jerked behind a car, stumblin' down onto her bum and tremblin' something awful. No food for the last four days. Only rain water to drink yesterday. The fever finally gone. Beth had no weapon, and could hardly stand. The car was unlocked, so she slipped in the passenger side front door with ease as the shrieks persisted. Yankin' the door closed, she saw the vehicle had all manual locks. She locked every door that was unlocked._

 _A flashlight pointed at her, glarin' from the window's glass a bit. Beth panicked._ Find Daryl. Survive. Go to Virginia _. That was her plan – the only plan. He wouldn't a' left her behind if he thought she survived. Beth needed to believe that. It fed her when food couldn't._

He steeled his arms until she slowed her efforts. His arms didn't hurt. They were just a' prison. "I said Carol meant nothin'," Daryl said, mouth pressed into her hair near her ear. He swallowed so loudly.

Beth stilled, lookin' around the ground around them. Her shoulders expanded and contracted wildly as she tries to control her breathing – to little avail. "Let go of me, Daryl…"

 _The woman banged on the door. "Let me in! I got food."_

 _She was observant. Most a' the time, observant meant dangerous._

 _Least lately, anyway._

 _Beth stared at her, partially weak from today's hike through the herd. Her ribs were damaged in some way. Her head had been kicked around, too._

 _Her wrist was sprained, walker done stepped on it and fell on it. It'd lain beside her for a few moments, findin' itself also trapped by the forward movin' stampede._

 _Beth had to find him. Findin' him was impossible if she died now. Maybe God had spared her. Maybe her daddy had stopped her from enterin' heaven. Didn't matter. She survived, and she was hell bent on findin' her only family still alive._

He eased his arms from around her, slowly. Beth struggled against his body until she dropped to the ground on her hands and knees near the bag. Eyes closed, she struggled to contain herself, her body threatening to burst any instant from an enduring pressure dwelling within her chest. It was heavy, but hollow.

 _The lady said somethin', but the words were distorted. She was_ so _damn tired…_

 _A part of Beth thought to open the door, but words mixed in with the dark temptation she'd likely seal her ticket to hell. This woman had food. The dead didn't eat food. The dead didn't need no damn flashlight. Beth's eyes rose, findin' the woman's large, overstuffed backpack._

The wind whirled around them, but didn't exactly drown out his footsteps behind her. He paced for a few moments until she heard him speed up and end up a few inches away. Daryl fell onto his knees, landin' on a few displaced twigs, leaves, and stones. He didn't flinch. His breathin' matched her own, deep, staggering, and shaky. "Beth, I ain't ever let you go."

"Daryl," Beth said, whirlin' to meet his curtained hues. "I've been searchin' for months for a way to feel…anything…again." She leaned back, fallin' to sit on her rear near the trunk of the tree. Tears glossed her gaze, but she swallowed it down to feed back into her heart. "I kept runnin' like you told me at the church. I ain't ever stopped."

 _Pale, diminished eyes never left the woman as the walkers tore apart her body. She didn't shy away after the terrifyin' wails, the latch of pain that kicked her in her own gut. Beth didn't even cry when the last words the woman shouted were_ You killed me. You did this!

 _When dawn hit, Beth slipped out a' the car, nearly crawlin' to the opposite side a' it. The walkers had moved on, but the woman's body wasn't there. She'd been changed. Likely still lurkin' 'round, possibly long gone._

 _Didn't matter._

 _Her backpack was Beth's now._

Daryl reached for her face, but Beth pushed her body back until she hit the trunk. "Findin' you was my only plan, Daryl! I lost who I was to find you. I wanted to feel _alive_ again when I finally saw you." She closed her eyes and leaned her head back against the tree. "I'm supposed to be in college, Daryl...I could be headin' the my mornin' English class." Her eyes fixed on him again. "Instead, I've become someone I can't recognize."

"Beth, you're still you."

" _No!_ " she shouted. She sniffled. "I ain't. That's the whole damn point! I haven't stopped one time to think about the things I've done, Daryl. Until this mornin', I was going through the motions with my brain switched off."

"You're alive."

Eyes rolling, Beth scoffed. "Hardly livin', Daryl."

Leaves scrambled along the forest floor when the wind picked up. The trees whispered to each other. Crickets and chirpin' birds sounded in every direction. In the distance, Beth swore a creek ran. He stayed on his knees, unmoving. He just looked at her. "I showed you hope in findin' good in others, Daryl."

The crouched man swallowed. "You sure did, girl."

Beth's eyes caved to the heavy tears dwellin'. "I need your help in findin' some good in me."

"The wall is _right_ there…" Daryl huffed, dropping the bag on the ground. His turn had just cycled to him.

Beth bit her lip. She wasn't above draggin' the damn bag at this point. "Still a long walk 'round."

Eyes narrowed, he lifted his arm toward her, finger pointin' until he made a fist. "Hush, you."

Boots diggin' in the ground, Beth's legs strained, shakin' as she stood in place. Her whole body hurt. More importantly, sweat drenched all over, seeping slowly in the large bandages across her back. Changin' 'em would be a pain…would probably need help. Who to ask was a largely frightenin' problem, though.

 _Drat._

"Daryl, we can rest here," she said, walking to the bag and casually unzipping it. Searchin', Beth reached around for a bit until she felt the gallon-sized ziplock. Thank the lord for the plastic bags coverin' up the contents within it. She pulled on the bag and set it on the ground, shruggin' off her pack.

"What's in the bag?" he asked, chest heavin'.

Meeting his eyes, Beth tried to school her features into some kind a' casual expression. "Personal stuff."

His brow rose. "Personal stuff?"

"Yep," she answered. Reaching for the bag, Beth saw a hand swipe the filled plastic bag from the ground. Eyes snappin' up, Beth saw Carl holding the bag near his head.

" _What_ do we have here?" Carl said, his grin reachin' up to his eye. He lifted his brows suggestively. "Drugs, perhaps?"

"Why would it be drugs?" Carol asked from behind them.

Beth focused on Carl. "Give that back," she said. "Please."

Carl instead opened the bag and reached in, smile fallin' quickly when he pulled a tube a' Neosporin out. He lowered the bag and likely saw the other many tubes of the stuff. "Not drugs," he said, words small and weak. He inspected the tube when Beth rolled her eyes and snatched the bag away from him. "Why do you need so much a' this?"

Pale blue eyes regarded Carl, who appeared so much older than she'd last seen him. Tuckin' away the ziplock into her backpack, she moved to the duffle bag and zipped it up. "Carl, take me to Judith?"

The teen sent her a funny look, still holdin' onto the Neosporin. His bandaged over one side of his face did little to hide his confusion. "Uhh…"

Sweat beaded down her forehead. Swallowing, Beth turned to Daryl, saying, "When you get this in there, don't let anyone open it up. I still have a few things I need from it." Carol stepped closer toward the three of them, closer to Carl. "I don't want it taken by the others."

"Girl, where ya goin'?" Daryl asked as Beth grabbed Carl and walked away from them.

Beth didn't look back. Changin' the bandages took priority. Carl easily caught up with her. They walked along the outer wall of Alexandria in mostly silence until the rounded the far corner, seein' the front gate in the distance.

"Are you gonna tell me what we're really doin'?"

Beth looked over to him. "I got this tattoo."

His eyes twitched. "Yeah? I know. Remember?" He held an ax in his hand and still clutched the tube. Weren't no walkers around, Beth noticed.

Laughter just beyond the wall distracted her, but eventually, she amended. "On my back. It's on the verge a' gettin' infected. Bandages need changin', but I can't really do it by myself."

His features lit up. "You have another one?"

Nodding, Beth looked down, stoppin' as she reached for his elbow. "Carl, you can't tell anyone about it, though. No one can know about this."

"What is it?"

Beth bit her lip, bringing her thumbnail to her lips and immediately throwing it away, tasting copper and dirt. "Carl."

He held his hands up. "Promise!"

Waitin' in Carl's room in the quiet brought the voices back, but at least they were incoherent. For now. The room was littered with clutter and décor. Livin' like the world hadn't gone to shit could easily seduce her.

 _If only she weren't so aware of what was out there_ …

Gulping, Beth slid out a' her plaid shirt and used the small mirror on the desk to help unravel the bandages around her torso. Finally at the last layer, Beth stopped the gauze wrap, gruntin' louder than she would a' like to. The gauze was clingin' to her skin, a cocktail of blood, puss, and sweat dried together in a pungent adhesive stick. Eyes waterin', Beth gritted her teeth together and closed her eyes as she used enough force to peel it back the rest of the way. Getting' it wet wouldn't help none. Becker had made that clear.

Lookin' 'round, she saw a towel at the foot of Carl's bed. In her pack, she had a trash bag, which she deposited all the dirtied bandages in. Exposed to the air's sting, her back felt cold, stingin' all along her spine. She clutched her shirt to her front, coverin' her chest in case anybody walks in on her in this state. Not once did she use the mirror to catch a glimpse of the large tattoo crossin' from her shoulders down to her waist.

The door sprang open. When Beth checked it, she saw Michonne holdin' Carl's collar. "I knew something wasn't right the moment I saw him raiding our medical supplies." She sighed.

"Sorry, Beth!" Carl hollered as Michonne threw him from the room.

The softness in the woman's eyes from last night was gone. Beth fell back to old habits. She was intimidated by this woman – just like sometimes back at the prison. Breath shaky, Beth backed away from Michonne. "I can do this by myself."

"Like hell you can," Michonne's smooth voice sliced through any resolve Beth had left in an instant. She whipped her hands around Beth's shoulders and spun her around. "I could smell this from outside." Her hands withdrew. "Lie down. We'll get you cleaned up."

Michonne sat at the edge of the bed, gently pattin' the last section of Beth's back. The peroxide stung, remnants burnin' deep in the abrasions across her back. Dried tears weighed her lashes down, making blinkin' somewhat a struggle. The smell was gone.

"It's actually not too bad once all the dried blood and pus are gone," Michonne quietly said. "I don't think this should cause you any worry."

Beth swallowed, hand fisting the blanket near her mouth. "Good."

"Why the wings?"

Beth sealed her lids shut. "I was drunk. I don't know."

"Drunk?" Michonne chuckled lightly. It was forced. Beth could just sense it. "Was it your first time?"

"No," she answered immediately. "Moonshine with Daryl after the prison."

"Ah."

"Becker did it the night before he got bit. I drew a crappy mock up, and he made it come to life…from what I can remember that night."

"I see."

"He got me drunk, so he could kill himself."

"Hmm…"

"Couldn't do it, so he got himself bit while I was out cold."

Michonne sighed, utterly calm.

"I wouldn't a' let him otherwise."

"You can't save someone who wants to die."

Beth opened her eyes. Sniffling, she looked at herself in the small mirror. "It ain't about savin' him. I just couldn't be alone anymore." _You're one selfish person, Beth Greene._ "That's all it was."

 _That's what you want me to say, huh?_

"How long ago?"

"The day before I found Alexandria."

 _You're not selfish, Beth. You're a fighter. A survivor._

"That recent?" Michonne softly asked, pressin' a moist, warm cloth over a spot on her lower back.

"I don't like who I am anymore. I don't even know…"

Michonne moved her hand, patting another area.

"Daddy would hate me so much," Beth whispered.

"Now I know you're joking," the woman said, her tone emboldened with conviction Beth hadn't heard in such a long time.

Beth hissed as Michonne covered the center of her back, where it was the worst. "Perhaps."

The cloth lifted from her back, and Michonne moved to sit down on the floor in front of Beth. Their eyes met. "I'm not sure how much you know about me, but I was where you are when all this started. I took time to find something inside me to fight – for myself," she whispered. Shaking her head, her eyes narrowed. "I spent way too long zoned out."

The subject wore her out. It just led to more confusion and horrific realizations. "You and Rick?"

Michonne's features didn't change. Her expression remained quite peaceful. "What about it?"

"Do you think you found a way to be happy?"

"I think _I_ have," Michonne answered, her eyes shifting somewhat. "It's been a while since I've talked to anyone about girl stuff." That was it – the end of that conversation.

Beth didn't say anything else. She allowed silence to creep over them. Michonne held up her finger for a moment until she stood up and left the room. Beth hummed the few minutes the woman was gone – until Michonne returned with a somewhat faded cobalt blue vest – looked like a breathable, but thick material. The woman glanced down at it. "Its… _not_ my color." Scrunching her features, she rose one brow. "Or my size."

"Where's the rest of it?"

Michonne smiled. "Oh, come on…it'll be the perfect shape for when I bandage you back up. I want it to heal properly, so we'll construct the bandages to have a similar shape." She tilted her head to the side. "The white bandages might peek out a hair, but it's the perfect solution for now."

"I'd prefer my plaid shirt."

"It needs a good washing, Beth."

Beth bit her lip. "I don't like it…"

Michonne lowered her hand holding the vest down by her side. "Oh…"

Swallowin', Beth sighed. "I don't like it when _people_ look at me funny."

Setting the vest on the dresser nearby, Michonne's features darkened. "Did someone _hurt_ you, Beth?"

Lyin' there, Beth felt the hands all over her again. Closing her eyes helped block out the invisible fingerprints. "No…not the way they wanted to, maybe."

 _I'm laying here dying, Beth. You got to promise me this._

The older woman swallowed, kneeling in front of her. Her warm hands brushed Beth's loose hair. "Beth?"

 _Becker shivered. He didn't have long. "Promise me you won't die no damn virgin!"_

 _"Why does it matter?"_

 _Becker labored, attemptin' to chuckle, she supposed. "You may be living on for me. I have a reputation to protect – even in the afterlife."_

"It ain't ever get _that_ far," Beth conceded.

Michonne swallowed and withdrew her hands, nodding a few times. "Are they dead?"

"They're long gone, Michonne. I took care of 'em."

"Good," she replied, eyes glazing over.

Snifflin', Beth looked over at the vest. "You got anything I can wear underneath it?"

"Beth, I'm so sorry!" Carl said as she exited into the livin' room. He paused, looking at her. "You look better than you sounded in there."

Michonne lightly shoved at his shoulder. "You were listening?"

Hands up, Carl shook his head. "I only heard her in pain. I swear."

"Mhm," Michonne answered. Turning to Beth, she lifted her brow. "No physical activity for a few days. Come see me every morning. We'll change those out with fresh bandages. Kay?" Beth nodded. Michonne tilted her head toward the front door. "Let's head back."

Carl and Beth idly chatted about nothing. It was nice, to be honest. She forgot how mundane superficial conversations were. As they approached the center of the compound, they all saw a small crowd circled around something. Dread pinched Beth's core. Throat clenchin', she bolted down the small hill.

Weaving through the gathered people, Beth made it to the front, seeing the bag wide open and the steel box broken, exposed. A small girl rushed forward toward a small teddy bear, pickin' it up and hugging it real tight. A jar of thirteen marbles rolled away from the steel box toward an adult she didn't recognize's feet. A picture frame landed near her own feet. Someone was throwin' this stuff around.

Like it didn't even matter.

Beth lurched forward toward the bag after collectin' the frame on the ground, now cracked from its impact onto the cement. Pale eyes rose from the bag to the body hovering over it.

" _Maggie!_ " she shouted, echoes rippling through the entire area. She had her hands on the crinkled, worn brown paper bag. Beth's hands ripped it from her sister's, but the bag broke underneath the stress, revealin' a four foot bloodied IV tube and a pair of glasses.

 _I'll drain you for every drop your worth, girl._

Static whirled around her ears. The voices crept through it, though. A deep, menacing one sliced through all the loud ones. Although quiet, it hurt the most. His knife trailed her skin, shaving away her arm hair all over again. Whispers twisted her stomach inside out. Dead bodies littered the ground all around her as the outside faded away behind the thick, impenetrable laboratory walls. A little girl's breathing cut through the piercing silence. No more than seven, she was naked, skinned in some places, and dying: slowly.

As long as Beth held Glasses' attention, that wouldn't be her. Until another girl came into the picture, she wouldn't become his trophy. Instead, she was on the operatin' table all over again, hooked up to IV and and intoxicated on some sort a' sedative. The more blood leavin' her body, the more fuzziness infiltrates her vision. The feelin' in her fingertips thins, almost gone. They tingled, only painfully.

Glasses' trophy fooled her. Had led her here for whatever reason. Beth might be dyin', and there ain't nothin' to do except lay and take it. Her naked body was cold against the metal. Suddenly, the knife moved from her arm to her ear, digging in until the pressure turned to pain. The muff over her mouth drowned her screamin'.

 _Hands. On her. Restraints, easing pressure. Gunshot. Grunting. Warm hands. Sunlight._

She woke back up in the cell, the doctor across from hers in a separate one. Only one light per cells offered any visibility amongst the darkness. They'd been caught. In the light, she saw his left leg broken, disfigured. His lab coat clung to his mangled body.

Someone entered. A bulky wall of a man. Introduced himself as Haas. Hog? Hawk? Ringin' in her ears sounded, distractin' her. She thought he said she'd recovered.

 _Only hours left…_

She woke back up, the cell untouched. Food in the far right corner. Also untouched. She was dressed. A knife sat idle by her feet. God, she felt so light, weak. Standin' was so hard, so she stopped tryin' after only ten seconds.

 _You'll kill his sorry ass or die trying._

"Beth!" Maggie shouted, pulling her from the flash. Her sister was so close, her hands clutching onto her body. Pulling her closer toward her, Maggie continued saying her name.

When Beth lowered her face, she saw Maggie held the IV tube in one hands and the glasses in the other. Control. Needed.

Beth closed her eyes, her steady inhale smoothing out the downward spiral within. The sunlight was sharp in her eyes when she opened 'em. Her hands reached for the items, gently clutchin' onto 'em and tugging them away from Maggie.

"Why did you do this?"

Maggie lifted her hands to Beth's jaw. "I need my sister back." Her shoulders rocked. Tears spilled from her eyes. Her hands trembled. "Come back to me, _please!_ "

Beth carried her sister's heavy gaze with ease. She didn't try to shove her away, neither. She stood tall in front of all the naive residents of Alexandria. Maggie repeated her name a few times more, pleadin' for her to come back to her.

Why did everyone need somethin' from her? When would she be the one takin'? Where on Earth was Daryl?

Lookin' around, she easily found him in the large crowd. He glanced down at a gun close to where Maggie previously sat. It all clicked. Maggie wanted to force Beth out a' her stupor. On Maggie's terms.

"Help me put all this back," Beth stoically said. She withdrew from her sister and bent, placin' the frame in the metal box. She moved to the small girl, stealing the bear back and scooped up the marbles jar. Wordlessly.

Maggie didn't budge, but that was okay.

Beth stepped closer to Daryl, handin' him the glasses and bloodied tube. He took it without question. The metal box had all the items. Daryl carried her trophies.

All was well. For now.

Rick eased up to the front of the group. "Beth?" His clothes were crooked, loose, and askew. He glanced over to Michonne. So did Beth. Her eyes were low on Rick, likely at his chest-level. It didn't take genius to work out what Rick had been doin'.

Ain't her business, though.

"Everythin' in the bag is free game except black plastic bag," she told Rick, finally looking back on her. Beth bent down and sifted quickly through the bag, findin' the said bag. Withdrawin' it, she held it out to Daryl. He took it without lookin' inside. Facing Daryl, Beth asked, "Cemetery?"

He leaned his head, and Beth followed his lead.

Dusk set low on the horizon. A fire in a barrel was the area's light. Daryl wiped his forehead of the thick layer of sweat, throwin' the shovel to the side. The hole finally covered, Beth glanced down at the sign she'd carved in a piece of spare plywood with a spare knife blade.

She stood up and moved to the plot, stickin' the plywood in the ground against a crate.

 _I'm sorry you met me._

Daryl stared at her. The fire and the wanin' daylight made his features dance darkly in the fire's flicker.

Beth set her eyes on him. "Seventeen people. Only nine mementos to bury. I'm layin' 'em to rest."

"You kill 'em?"

"In one way or 'nother."

He swallowed. He dropped his gaze and huffed, eyes lookin' at her makeshift headstone. "Why'd you do it?" Her silence earned his attention back on her. Her shoulders sagged with her exhale, which distracted him somewhat. From what, she didn't know.

"You know."

The fire's orange flame snapped, castin' shadows and illuminatin' different parts of his face. His bangs were over his eyes. Despite all the barriers hiding him, Beth saw his dark blue eyes shine over. He tried coughin', but it sounded more like a groan. She noticed his fingers twitchin' slightly. He slouched back in his claimed lawn chair. Thumbnail movin' to his lips, he exhaled and bit down. His hand balled, shakin' as he moved it to rest on the arm chair again.

"Oh."

Beth swallowed. "I need you to do somethin' for me."

"Anything."

"I need you to burn the tube and glasses for me."

Daryl sat there looking right at her. Clearing his throat, he nodded once, barely. "What'd he do to ya?"

"Wanted my blood," she said, convinced she'd stop there. Daryl grunted, standin' up and dragging his chair closer to her till he was close enough to take her hand.

"Tell me what _really_ happened."

Beth tried to move away from him, but he kept her there, pushing her like he used to. His eyes never broke away from hers. Beth's brows dipped, twitchin' and jaw jutting forward. "He _did_ want my blood," she started. Exhalin', she continued. "His original intent, though, was ta…to…" Her fingers curled over his calloused hand. "…and to kill me."

"Did…" Daryl clutched his other hand on her hand, liftin' it to his chin, her fingers lightly trailing his lips. "Did he _hurt_ ya?"

Beth fought back the pain, shakin' her head. "Minor bruises and cuts. Drugged me to keep me docile. Wanted me for my blood once he saw my aged bite mark. Thought I could be the cure to all a' this."

"Did you kill him?"

"In some ways," she immediately answered. Her eyes flashed to the tube and glasses. "That's what I need you to do."

Daryl seemed to make the connection, meanin' shifting into place in his mind. "Let's kill this son 'a bitch."

A strong pull hoisted her up. He let go of her with only one a' his hands, the other reachin' for the items near them on a small crate. Daryl led them to the fire pit, checkin' over his shoulder to make sure she watched him. She nodded once, and he threw the articles into the ragin' fire. He tugged her in front of him, wrappin' his arm around her front, settlin' over her collar bones under her chin. His hand curled over the bite mark gently, thumb brushing up and down.

Standing behind her, he lifted his free hand and jutted his middle finger out in front a' them. Beth leaned her head back, not even fightin' the tears that spilled quietly. She stared at the fire and lifted her hand, flickin' it off.

Her arm ached after a minute, but they stood there like idiots to the rest a' the world, arms stretched out in front of them. Daryl's arms were her shelter. _This_ was home. For the first time in a very long time, Beth could taste happiness looming on the horizon. After a few moments, they let their hands fall to their sides. Beth's hands rose to grip onto his hard, rigid arm holdin' onto her tight.

"Ain't nobody gonna hurt ya anymore."

Beth almost believed it. "Shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"I ain't no liar, girl."

"You're also not God. You have no power over what happens."

Daryl scoffed. "Then do me a favor…"

Beth turned her head, eyes matched right up to his nose. _So close_. Her throat clenched, tightenin' beyond her control. His eyes flickered lower to her mouth, but quickly snapped back to her own gaze. With his free hand, he smoothed her hair near her forehead and leaned over, lips raisin' to press against her skin above her brows.

"Don't leave my sight again."


	4. Beth, rest, you are on top of the world

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

Hi, there. I hate it when authors summarize chapters. It defeats the point in reading. My opinion. Anyway. I'm concerned my story isn't clear enough, so I wanted to write a chapter smoothing things out a bit to buffer the next chapter. It'll be a bit darker than the others, so here's a bit of clarification.

I'm trying my best to create an original story that focuses on emotions rather than mindless PWP elements many stories I've seen on both sites. I'm writing this mostly for me, but it seems a few people are also really enjoying this. The chapter title comes from a Kina Grannis song called "Beth." It's what this story is based on if you're curious to hear it.

Thank you!

 **. . . . . . . . . . . .**

Blackness surroundin' the binoculars' circular view, channeling Beth's attention far down the road. At the gate, Beth and Carl scanned every inch of viewable terrain, seeing only a few walkers and ruined cars here and there. While she checked the binoculars for the seventieth time in five minutes, Carl aimed and fired away at the walkers who strayed within a hundred feet of the gate.

"You're wastin' bullets," Beth said, more to fill her anxious silence.

Carl scoffed. "You're wastin' time."

The binoculars fell down onto her chest when she let go. Her eyes caught his. "I know…"

"It's Daryl, Maggie, and Glenn." His voice was confident and carried a calm timbre. "They're fine. Can't tell you how many close calls they've walked away alive from."

Beth bit her lip and grabbed the binoculars without lifting them up. "Gee...how comfortin' to know."

"Just because they're late doesn't mean they're stranded, lost, or dead," Carl replied. He reached Beth's shoulder, turnin' her a bit to face him. "Glenn and Maggie are sometimes longer because they find a ton of good stuff. Takes longer to haul it all back."

Beth sighed. "To be honest, I ain't frettin' over them…"

"Are you ever going to ease up on Maggie?" he suddenly asked. "You should a' seen her when dad hauled Daryl out without you in tow…"

Her fingertips turned white as they clutched the binoculars. Releasin' her breath, she looked out again. "I want to just go back to the prison, Carl...back before everythin' got so bad."

When she turned her attention back to the teen beside her, she saw his face twitch somewhat. "That's a lie." It was all he'd say on the matter, apparently.

"You're right."

"Dad told me not to say anything, but…"

Beth chuckled softly, nudgin' him with her elbow lightly. "Carl, you can tell me anythin'."

"Well," he said, coughing. "You and Daryl…"

"What _specifically_ about me and him?" she countered.

Carl cleared his throat. "You know...did you two…ever...well...what's it like to have s-sex?"

Beth froze, eyes lockin' onto his. He shifted from one foot to the other and back again. His gun moved from either hand - almost in unison. When she still didn't speak, he started stumblin' over more words until she reached for his wrist gently. "The furthest I've ever been was with Jimmy," she said, voice quiet. As his brows pinched, she laughed. "It was right after all this started, but before my ma died. I was a mess, and he wasn't too far behind me." She could nearly hear Jimmy's voice if she only listened to her memory a bit harder. She didn't. "You understand when I say it'd suck to die a virgin, right?"

" _Yeah!_ "

Beth smiled. "I couldn't go through with it, though." Carl narrowed his eyes. "I still held onto the old world's customs and standards. Sex was something you lost like spare change or your keys in my high school."

Sighing, she glanced out to the open road outside the walls. Seein' nothing, she continued. "In this world, sex, at least what I've learned from all a' this, means you share a part a' yourself with someone who might not be alive in the next hour. It ain't about innocence or virginity anymore. It's about how willin' you are to connect with someone no matter when they die."

"Wasn't that similar to before?"

"Almost," she answered. "Only now, you risk givin' another person a part a' you you will never get back. If they die, it's like that piece of ya just fades out forever."

Carl nodded. "And that's a bad thing?"

Beth shook her head. "Not when you have all or enough a' yourself to give away."

"And you don't?"

"Carl," Beth started. His eyes were so tender and curious. She didn't have the heart to stop talkin' yet. "When I died, I honestly don't know how much a' me came back when I woke up."

The boy got closer and reached out for her shoulders, pullin' her in close. Her arms lifted eventually, returning his hug. "I'm glad you're back."

Beth chuckled lowly. "Me, too."

When they pulled away, Beth released the built tension in her shoulders by sighin' a bit. "Let's just go. We're losing daylight. It's not safe to be out at night with a car. Headlights give us away too quickly." She looked behind her, seein' the woman named Rosita. "Sorry we took over your post."

The woman wore pigtails, her straight black hair flat against her shoulders without much frizz. She held her gun over her shoulder with one hand. "I'll take the breaks where I get them."

Beth and Carl climbed down and watched Rosita go back up. Carl looked up, but quickly looked back down. Beth peeled off the binoculars when Rosita turned around toward her. Lightly tossin' them up, Beth nodded once toward the woman. She still didn't know what to make of the new family members. Today wasn't the day she'd learn, either.

Together, Beth and Carl walked toward the settlement. "So you and Daryl aren't together?"

"No."

"But you're close."

"You're close with Michonne," Beth said. "Are _you_ two together?"

Carl gagged. "Don't even joke about that! You've seen the way she looks at my dad, right?"

Beth raised her brow with an easy smile stretchin' her mouth. "I know. I'm surprised he's with that woman, to be honest."

"Jessie's nice…"

"Just nice, huh?"

Carl shrugged. "Dad's too much an idiot to see what's right in front of him."

"Call your dad an idiot one more time…" a voice interrupted from behind them.

The two of them whipped around, seein' Michonne carrying Judith in her arms. The baby looked so happy. Beth's arms ached to hold her, but the little girl just didn't recognize her. No matter what Beth tried on her. Thinkin' about it made Beth's chest ache.

"Michonne!" Carl yelped.

Michonne softly smiled. "He _can_ be an idiot, huh?"

"What?" Carl said, clearly confused.

Beth hauled her eyes to Michonne's. "They ain't back yet."

"Well, we can't wait on 'em any longer. You know those silencers you said you have in that pack you have out west?"

Beth nodded.

Michonne shifted Judith in her arms. "I can't find Carol, so I need to watch Judith. Rick wanted Carl for something, but I'll cover for if you promise me something and mean it."

Carl's shoulders tightened. "Okay…"

Michonne's smile fell. "Stop sneaking around out of the compound with that girl. You're all your father has left. If you can't keep yourself safe for him, do it for Judith." Her eyes were glossy. "You got it?"

Carl swallowed, shiftin' his eyes to Beth. "Got it. Okay?"

Michonne looked to Beth. "We just need silencers and more ammo. Rick wants to start shooting lessons for a couple people who need to help."

"Why the urgency?" Beth asked abruptly.

Michonne appeared hesitant and looked at Carl. Only for a moment, she mulled over somethin' in her head. "A recruiter came back at dawn mentioning something about other settlements. He saw things that alarmed him and reported it back to us."

"What kind a' things?"

"I really can't say."

Beth's eyes narrowed. "If there's a danger out there waitin' for us, we should know about it before headin' out."

Michonne nodded. "Fair enough. Heavily guarded and armed cars entered the settlement. The recruiter heard something about the cars expecting half of their supplies in exchange for not killing them." Michonne looked down at Judith, but quickly looked to Beth again. "The settlement's about twenty miles west from here."

"We'll stay close. The site we need is west, but it's only about nine miles out."

Michonne stepped close to them. Her hand touched Carl's chin and quickly dropped. "You two stay safe and stay off the major roads. Come back before nightfall has a chance to settle in the sky."

Carl nodded. Beth smiled.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . .**

"I just realized you never actually answered any of my questions…" Carl said from the passenger's side of the front seat. The truck moved at about 40 miles per hour down a paved road sandwiched between the tall trees native to the area.

Virginia reminded her so much of Georgia in that regard.

Beth's mouth lifted in the corners. Her hand on the steering wheel steadied the vehicle. She chanced a glance at Carl. "Ask again. I've just developed a habit of directin' conversation to be as vague as possible."

"Let's start with Maggie. No bullshit this time, Beth."

"Does your daddy know you have a dirty mouth?"

" _Beth!_ "

She rolled her eyes and sighed. "Fine. The short answer. She'll always be my blood, but when we split up after the prison, she didn't try lookin' for me. It's not somethin' I can just let go." Her eyes steadied before her on the road. "I've tried."

"But you do it, too." Carl fought her, his tone suggested as much. "You said you're worried about Daryl at the gate."

"I never said I was perfect," Beth said, the confession painfully obvious.

"Do you think you'll ever speak to her again?"

"I gave you the short answer. That's all I'm gonna say about this."

Carl huffed, his arms crossing. "Fine. We'll talk about Daryl. I want the medium answer."

"Where shall we begin?"

"Do you love him?"

Beth's throat closed tight, but she cleared her throat. "Next question."

Carl groaned. "Beth, you promised."

"Fine, you want the truth?" Beth shouted. Her eyes were wet now. "I don't know how I feel about anything anymore!" Her hand tightened around the steering wheel. "To know I spent _weeks_ and _months_ fightin', killin', pillagin' all alone to find him...to finally get to see him again and hear him with Carol…"

Her heart clenched twice and her eyes veered to her right. Two walkers. She stopped the car and felt tears pour over her eyes. She parked the car and reached for the door handle, but Carl reached over for her. "I'll get them."

He reached for his knife and exited the car. Beth followed him as he walked to the walkers snarlin' and reachin' at him. With ease, he shoved his knife in their skulls and pulled their bodies off the road. He quickly came back to the car and quietly shut the door. Beth started drivin' again...couldn't risk stayin' in one spot for too long.

"He and Carol?"

"I haven't asked about her, yet. I don't know if it was the only time or if they'd done it a few times." Her mind began to hurt. "They didn't even make it very far, though. I walked out and pulled Daryl's mind from her to me until the connection opened with that walker in camp."

She heard Carl swallow. "When dad came out without you...haulin' an unconscious Daryl...anyway, when he woke up, Daryl lost his mind and didn't find it until Carol apparently found him burning himself with cigarettes in the woods alone. I'm not pretending to understand how adults work or anything...but he hasn't been the same until you came back, Beth."

Beth sniffled. Silence loomed over them for a bit.

"Carol's always been close with Daryl - ever since Sophia's death." Carl leaned against the door and turned to face her better. "I've at least always suspected they'd just been quietly together this whole time."

Beth didn't talk. After a while, he sighed. "We were all at Terminus. When we escaped, all he talked about was findin' you. Maggie, me...nearly _everyone_ wanted to follow Eugene up to D.C., but Daryl never forgot about you."

She just stared at the road ahead. "He wouldn't let us forget you, Beth."

"When I killed someone, Carl," she interrupted. "Daddy pops into my head when the last breath exits the body."

Carl quieted.

"Every time I hurt someone, he was there remindin' me of who I was before I nearly died." When she heard him try and string a cohesive sentence together without success, she sighed. "He's been with me all this way remindin' me why I hurt, why I kill, or why I steal."

"Why's that?"

"Daryl," she whispered. When she exhaled, it was sharp and loud. Her whole body shivered, making the sound sliced and quick. "I mean...if this is what love is like...I'm frightened by it - frightened by what I've done because a' it."

"I think we all feel like that at some point."

"No, Carl," she shouted. When he winced, she closed her eyes and sighed, smoothing out her nerves. Quickly, her eyes flashed open. "Before I got bit, I never once wanted to hurt anyone...not like this."

"Beth…"

Tears slid down her face, but she quickly wiped them away. "What if I am like the walkers? What if the only difference between us is that I get to live and they look like monsters? What if I'm slowly losin' my mind and will eventually _be_ that monster?"

 **. . . . . . . . . . . .**

No matter how similar they were in age, Carl couldn't understand or comprehend this situation. There were things about him she'd never understand, too; however, it wasn't fair of her to expect he'd understand her situation or her feelings on the matter.

Beth swallowed down the bitterness. She wouldn't be mad at him for something he couldn't fathom. That weren't very fair, and she'd never quite been one of _those_ girls who was passive aggressive. At the very least, she hoped it weren't the case.

"We walk from here," she told him as she cut through their shared silence. "It's only a mile from here."

They headed straight into the woods.

 **. . . . . . . . . . . .**

Skin itched. Eyes boiled in her skull. Color diminished, neutral tones washed everything until the vibrancy of the leaves, trees, and brown soil she stumbled over looked drained - not quite black and white. Thick, acid-like beads of sweat sagged down her face, lowered down her chest into every nook and cranny her body had.

The blood coarsin' through her veins cooked under her skin, baking her already stiff, sore muscles. Lungs threatening to burst, Beth grunted as she stepped closer to the compound wall. The gate's distance couldn't be imagined - her brain pounded with every movement her body endured.

 _Carl's breathin' shuddered, slicing the air into quick thin beats. "We don't want no trouble…" He held his gun steady on the guy before them, standing in front of Beth, who tightened her grip on her knife's handle._

Another step rivaled all the pain rushin' through the cut she stroked against her wrist all those years back. "I got ya, Carl." His arm around her shoulders caused her to grind her teeth together. "Almost there."

"HELP!" Whoever watched the gate saw them stumbling around. _Thank God!_

The yellin' persisted, but the sound drowned out the closer they awkwardly hobbled to the main gate. Somehow. The damn car had run out a' gas a half mile back. They'd had to head out of their way to find a new way not littered with walkers, who'd likely heard the gunshot. She'd wasted so much gas doin' so. The bag's weight sure slowed them down.

 _"Trouble?" The large man laughed. Actually laughed. Aloud._

 _Beth's heart jammed twice. "Walkers nearby."_

 _The man tilted his gun at her. "What? You some kinda psychic?"_

 _The breeze brought in the stench. "Surely you can let us mosey on our way. Likewise," Beth replied sweetly. Her eyes expanded as her lips parted. She shifted her weight onto her other leg, easing her threatened posture out._

 _"You're both close enough to camp." The man's black hair moved onto his face. She watched him curl his lip. He smelled 'em, too. "Seen too much. Walkers ain't the trouble."_

The gate ripped open and three bodies broke toward them. Different voices mixed in with the whispers too low to catch. For now. They reached her in no time. Someone cried out when they relieved her of Carl's weight. Someone took over the bag.

The burden gone, Beth felt her toes go numb - no longer able to carry them to their safe haven. She shivered. _No._ More like tremored. A wave of pain ought to have rendered her nerves moot. However, Beth hardly felt anything anymore. They made it back. Mostly in time.

Now came the truly horrific part.

Arms threw around her shoulders and behind her knees. Someone carried her across to the compound's refuge. It was a man. His voice quakin' with wave after wave of nearly every emotion in the books. He said somethin', but she couldn't quite make whatever it was out.

Her name?

 _Carl's body rammed into the ground behind Beth. Time never slowed down. It only sped the hell up. Thankfully, she knew something about adrenaline rushes. She cleared the distance and sliced right through the man's throat, whirlin' around and stabbing him right in the temple. Blood spattered all over her face. No time to care about that._

 _"Carl!"_

 _He whimpered and grunted out against the ground. Shot, but not critically. Examinin' his shirt, she carefully lifted it up, seeing it was just a graze, though deep enough for blood to ooze out just a bit. Things were quiet. No leaves shifted or rustled. The wind calmed, even. "We gotta move, Carl. Drawin' too much attention out here. The guy was loud enough."_

 _She gripped her knife tight, eyes moving nearly in a complete circle around 'em. No walkers to be seen. Beth weren't a fool. She knew it was here…somewhere. The foliage acted as a great cover for whatever was out there. Likely trailin' the commotion. "We need to wrap that up and move out. We have what we came for."_

It was Daryl. The sun eased as his head blocked it out a' sight. He was crying. He peered down at her a couple times. Eventually, they reached a buildin', likely the medical area. He threw her on the couch and dropped to his knees, wiping hair out a' her eyes. He cursed, drawin' his hand back when his fingers trailed along her heated skin.

Beth was the sun right about now. "Daryl…" She shivered against his touch, which fell back to her cheek. His hand was rough, calloused, and almost cool compared to her. His eyes were heavy. "Outta here. Bitten. Different."

Daryl's hand shook. His other hand balled in front of his mouth. "Bethie, you gotta make more sense."

Closin' her eyes, she willed the energy to breathe. Deeply. Painfully. Her lungs felt punctured by her ribs. "Take me…away. Water. Talk…away."

 _The universe laughed at her. No leaves disturbed. No wind whirlin' around. No movements. No noise. Walkers couldn't be stealthy intentionally. It was the perfect moment, stars alignin' in all the right ways._

 _Beth had turned to grab something to tie around his wound from her pack. Eyes off him for one split second._

 _The snarl cut through her in the same way her heart stopped beatin' when she was taken from Daryl. The walker, only a torso crawlin' along the ground, grabbed Carl's head. He tried movin' away, but it was too late. It had him, missin' him only because his body was wriggled around. It steadied him._

 _Beth dropped her pack, reachin' out for Carl's exposed neck. The knife in her hand whirled toward the walker's head, but Beth's forearm reached out further, slowly covering Carl's skin. The teeth didn't dig far into her. The knife struck the walker before any real damage could be done. The damage was done, though._

 _The bite pierced into her skin. Perhaps only as a flesh wound. The fever, however, would come with a vengeance. Like always._

When her eyes opened back up, she was on a bed, surrounded in darkness. Daryl came into view as her vision adjusted to a candle's low flicker. A cloth was on her head and her throat didn't hurt as much. Her body was so heavy.

"Don't you die on me, Beth Greene."

Beth's mouth twitched. "Wouldn't…even _if_ I wanted to."

His hands were back on her face. He shifted himself to hover over her face, so she didn't have to strain her body too much, but she resisted his proximity by moving her hand onto his and pushin' ever so slightly. He sat back, but held onto her hand. One of his knees were bent and in front of his chest. She turned her head on the mattress to look at him.

"Beth…"

"You called me Bethie…" she said, her voice strained and weak. "When I fell into you at the gate…"

Daryl tensed, his shoulders pullin' back and his hand clenchin' in hers. He looked away for a second, but caught her gaze a few more times - until he calmed his breathin' long enough to look her square in the eyes. "I wasn't thinkin'…"

"Thank you for remindin' me of daddy…" Beth replied. She almost coughed. "It's good to remember him…the good…" Closin' her eyes briefly, she actually did cough. No blood, though. "It made me…happy, Daryl."

"Beth, tell me you're gonna be okay." Daryl's eyes clouded over. He leaned into her, close enough to the edge of the mattress to rest his chin on. "You ain't made it this far to leave me, right?"

Beth wanted to reach for him, but her muscles wouldn't give her control. Not unless she wanted the pain again. Sweat beaded at her skin, but at a much more controllable degree. Water had made it better for her second bite over three weeks ago. "This ain't like the others, Daryl." She found his eyes again. "I don't die from this."

She saw him loosen slightly, his lips curlin' in a corner a bit.

She swallowed. "It's so much worse, Daryl. I live through it." Whatever ghost smile was there fell in an instant. "It's even worse for you - those who get stuck with me."

"I don't…I don't understand." His voice tore, no more than a whisper. Daryl's eyes became infected, inflamed…enraged.

"Daryl," Beth said, breathing unevenly. She needed water. Her eyes moved to the glass, and he instantly followed her meaning. His arms carefully, expertly lifted her up while he reached for the glass and eased it down her throat. He moved the glass away, but held her there in his arms - without much fight from her. "I'm gonna be just fine. It's the fever that does somethin' to me I can't explain…because I'm usually not in my right mind when it happens. I never remember this."

"Girl, I ain't got no time for your word games. Tell me in plain English."

Beth's body shook. "Becker said I'm tortured to the point where I'm beggin' for someone to kill me."

Daryl swallowed.

"No matter what happens, Daryl, you can't give in to whatever I ask or do or say. You gotta let me endure it."

"You look fine now."

Beth wanted nothing more than to roll her eyes. "The water helps my body stay manageable. Until it doesn't."

In between the jolts pryin' at her head and the precise moment Beth parted her lips to continue speaking, Daryl leaned in closer to her. His forehead met hers, not shying away after feelin' the slimy, dewy sweat sticking to her skin. His nose touched hers, bridge nudging her sturdy bone. Beth's eyes flashed open, head aching as she tried to pull away.

The proximity was too much. His breath did little to cool her off. Her chest twisted, creatin' a distant, familiar ache at her chest. Pinching and riling up, the sensation whirled from her collar bone, up through her throat, and back down to her stomach, which squeezed. His hands held her against him.

"Shh, shh.." Daryl said. Eyes closing, he turned his head up, closing the small distance between them a bit. Somehow, he felt too close and too far away at the same time. The fever didn't fade away, but some of her discomfort washed away as he took his pointer finger and moved it across her lip. "Too long since I felt somethin', Beth." His eyes opened, and she swore she felt his lashes tangle in her own somewhat. "That walker that bit you at that hospital took you down that elevator shaft. I saw it with my own damn eyes."

One of his hands slipped down, covering her throat as she swallowed. Words she'd rehearsed a thousand times in her head washed away into some proverbial tidal wave crashin' down on top a' her. Her arm itched something awful, but he anchored her to the moment. His fingers lowered from her mouth to her throat, clasping around so gently she thought his touch wasn't even there. As she inhaled deeply, he softly smiled. "I feel you breathing, girl." He pulled her in further. "I feel life leavin' and enterin' you right now."

Beth didn't understand it, but she needed to touch him, but he blocked her hands from moving much…and the pain that also shot through her. "What happened when I fell?" She strained, words spoken only a choked whisper.

Daryl's eyes loaded with tears - tears he hardly tried to stop. Instead, he sniffled somewhat. He rubbed the back of his hand across his nose when he pulled back briefly. Soon enough, he came back to her, breath ticklin' her soaked skin. It distracted her from thinking about the risin' misery across her whole body. "You held onto that floor with that fuckin' walker holdin' onto your shoe for so long. That bitch blocked my way - tried to control the situation. I took her out, but by the time I turned back to come get you, you were just…" His throat bobbed. "… _gone_."

Fidgeting around with the cloth, now on the bed…somehow fallen after gone unnoticed, Daryl patted her forehead a bit. Searchin' her eyes, he brought his thumb nail to his mouth, looking away from her. "Rick held me down while Carol talked down the cops. Some of 'em tried shootin', but she took 'em out pretty quickly. I didn't notice then. All I focused on was that you were just _gone_ for a second time." Lowering his hand, he reached for her again. "When any of us finally got the chance to see if you still hung on, nothin' was in that elevator shaft." His eyes planted onto hers. "Rick knocked me out after that. I was causin' a scene and wouldn't budge without you. The group needed to scoot, so he did what he felt best in that moment."

"I would a' fallen down to die with the walker if I hadn't caught onto the second floor's landin', Daryl. The doors were just open, and I pulled myself up. Don't know why, though. I thought I would turn. I swore I'd never let myself…"

He squinted down at her. The candle did little to let her see his full expression, but she could hear his breathing get shaky and wild. "How'd you survive that night? The lower floors were lost, I thought."

"They were. I found a broken freezer to hole up in, I think." Beth pinched her brows. "Walkers chased me for a small bit, but I don't remember much after that." Beth sniffled, gruntin' against a wave of bearable pain. Daryl rushed to have his hand on her. Releasin' the breath caught in her throat, she caught his eyes again. "When I woke up, all I could remember was so much pain. I thought it was a dream for a while - at least two weeks, I think…"

"Why'd you think to come here?"

Beth winced, but sighed. "I knew you'd never let my death be meaningless. Noah needed to have closure."

He pulled away slightly. Sniffling, he grabbed the water and repeated his actions, allowing her to drink up a bit. Until she coughed. Time until the agony was limited. Daryl set her back and sighed. "You haven't asked about him. I don't see you with him here, neither."

"He found a place in the community." Beth looked down. "It ain't my place to pull him out now."

"Beth…"

Blue eyes caught his. "Yea?"

His eyes searched the darkness around her until they finally set back to her. "When, uh…when you're better…" He swallowed, the saliva in his mouth washin' down loudly. He released a shaky breath. "We have words we need ta share, okay?"

Beth's eyes drowned in tears that fell with abandon. Her only reply was a single nod.

Daryl pulled away and cleared his throat. "What needs to be done before the worst?"

"Beck wasn't very gentle with me. He tied me to the back of his truck…gagged me, so the noise muffled some," Beth said absently. Her eyes closed. "That might be best. I don't want you to see me beg you to kill me…"

"I'll do it if you need me to. I want to make you as comfortable as possible."

"Will you get Michonne?"

Daryl reached for her, strokin' her jawline. "I can do this, girl. I ain't leavin' you up here alone."

"I need her to check somethin' for me…it's…I need to…my clothes aren't right. I need something looser and thinner…" Beth tucked her face in his palm, not meetin' his eyes. His muscles tensed, and he tried prying his hand away from her, but her face held him in place. "Daryl, those words we'll have…" she choked. Shuddering, she met his in the eyes. "Promise me you won't look at my back. Not tonight."

The warmth from his forehead against hers comforted her. "You ain't gotta worry, girl."


	5. I'm open, I'm hoping you can

**AUTHOR'S NOTES:**

This chapter is ridiculously long. No sense in breaking it up if it's all one chapter. Enjoy the unusually long chapter! :)

* * *

 _ **Chapter 5**_ **:** _I'm open, I'm hoping you can...when will you let me in?_

Darkness welcomed her back. She woke with the deepest inhale she could recall. Her back arched off the bed to accommodate for it, but as he body contorted into a new position, every muscle in her body shredded as shards of glass sliced through 'em. Beth tried to cry out, but a thick gag ate the noise. As her body stiffened back against the bed, she slammed her eyes shut and let the air in her lungs rip from her throat. Head feelin' light and funny, she screamed the pain from her body. Of course, it did little to alleviate anything.

Eyes stingin', Beth found she couldn't cry to lubricate 'em. When she slammed her eyes closed, the dry orbs scratched against her lids. Head slamming against the pillow, she stretched her neck, craning it and moving it anyway she could try to shove the gag out of her mouth. It was too bad her arms and legs were tied to the bed frame. Even her mid section had a tie around it, only broken…probably from her commotion.

Her wrists and ankles hurt, the more she stirred, the more painful they became. The skin around her wrists were probably raw.

Beth remembered nothin' from last night - apart from Michonne coming in to help her change and take off her bandages. As her body quaked against the moist, rotten mattress, she continued to try to scream - be as loud as she could. Her right hand budged from the restraint.

Beth glanced behind her, pullin' with whatever strength she could muster despite the raw skin burning against the tight fabric. The moment it came free, she stretched and fiddled with the other one. She swore she felt tears falling down her face as she sat up after her other hand became free, but nothing. Phantoms…ghosts.

Her hands rushed behind her head and struggled to untie the gag. When it finally pulled loose, she threw it on the floor and tugged the ties around her feet loose. The room drenched in the stench of death. Shiftin' her body, her toes hit the wood, the coolness causing her to wince. The heat was the only thing familiar…that and the pain her bones reminded her of.

When she called out into the darkness, her throat set ablaze. Raw. That was the pattern, it seemed. Her voice was gone. She needed to drink some water.

Where was Daryl…and Michonne? Had they left? Had she scared them off? Likely not, but her poundin' head hardly let her think where they could have been.

Clothes set on a chair near the bed caught her attention. The shower was downstairs, but if she took it slow, she could make it alone. Shower…it was non negotiable.

 _Now_.

Squaring her shoulders, Beth slammed her teeth together, sliding against each other. The friction alone made her feet ache. The headboard stilled her weak, shaky body until she stabilized. It took more time than she thought possible to just get to the chair. Time slowed as she fell at the top of the stairs. Beth swallowed. She wasn't above slidin' down these damn wooded steps to the second story below. Her legs ached somethin' awful.

In a daze, Beth made it to the shower, water lukewarm. The first batch a' cool water shocked her body momentarily until it adjusted accordingly. It took a while for her to do more than sit on the hard tile, water rushing down her body with her clothes on. Why had she forgot to take those off?

She was _so_ tired. However, the water eventually washed away the pain, the stench, and the dried layer of sweat. Sluggishly, she moved out a' her trashed clothes.

Breathin' evenly, Beth sat underneath the showered for what seemed like forever. The hot water eventually ran out, and she grudgingly stood up, somehow easier than before, and shut off the shower. Sauntering out, she reached for the towel someone left behind from earlier, she assumed. In a blur, she somehow stood in front of the mirror, fully dressed in the plaid long sleeved shirt and leggings. Her eyes weren't normal. They were lighter blue - a dull white film over her dilated eyes.

 _She ain't dead yet._

Her face was scratched up, bruises and marks from her struggles up north showing on showcase. It'd been nearly a week since she'd made her presence known to the group. Beth hadn't looked at herself until this moment.

 _She sure_ looked _dead, though._ Paler was her skin. Her cheeks were sunken, eyes dark underneath.

When her brain worked again, she was downstairs in the kitchen, starin' at her discarded pack on the island, thrown and forgotten about. Turnin' her head, she noticed the front door wide open. Checking the back door gave the same realization.

 _Something was very, very wrong…_

Her knife beckoned her like the dead to fresh flesh. Her fingers expertly cradled the handle. Her breathing remained slow as she descended the steps out back, head turning in any direction for signs of life. Looking down, she saw her hands holdin' onto the eighteen inch blade and a pocket knife. Stumbling back against the house, Beth shoved the pocket knife into her tight pants on her hip.

It only took one step for someone to hear her. "Hey! Danny! We've got a live one…hiding over here!"

Hands were on her, but she was too tired to fight them off. They weren't nice. They weren't gentle. They carried her somewhere. Her brain hurt. Voices broke the silence - a lot of 'em.

"I'll ask one more time… _where_ is the pretty little blonde?"

 _She knew that voice…_

"Boss, we found her!"

"NO!" someone shouted.

When Beth's eyes opened, she saw Daryl in the center of a ring of people, head jammed against concrete. Rick, Michonne, and Carl stood off to one side…guns pointed at them while the other group members were scattered throughout the rest of the resident crowd.

"Look who finally graced us with her presence…"

Beth's eyes locked onto the beast of a man holding down Daryl, who's face looked bruises and battered as he was able to move his head toward her. Though her body didn't afford her energy, adrenaline pulsed through her. Her mind sharpened, eyes narrowing. She struggled against the man holdin' her hostage. "Haas..."

The other man by Beth moved at the man's order to hold down Daryl.

"I swear to God if you fuckin' touch her!" Daryl shouted. "I'll kill you myself!"

Beth's eyes never left Haas'. The man let her go, but she stumbled until he caught her by the elbow. "So, you _do_ remember me..."

His broad shoulders, his height, his weight…it all worked together to demonstrate just how dangerous this man was. His dark smile and bald head only enhanced the look. He was nearly as wide as two of Beth standing side by side. This man was built like a tank.

Haas grabbed her arm, bringin' it up to examine it after yanking the sleeve clean off the hem. Quickly, he lifted high. "See boys?" A few gasps ignited all around her. The bite on her arms was exposed, still a bit fresh, swollen, and red. "She's one of _them!_ "

How he'd known a bite mark was there alarmed her. He'd had eyes on her all yesterday...and she'd been none the wiser.

"I ain't no walker, Haas!" Beth spat. Haas tightened his large hand on her limb, causin' her wince and groan aloud softly. Hissin', Beth groaned. "You still too stupid to get it, huh?"

The man threw her arm down, and the movement forced Beth to fall over next to Daryl. "You got your biter friends to kill Becker and made off with our goods." Haas grabbed her by the hair. Daryl grunted, but was subdued. "We're here to take back our own…and kill you, bitch, once and for all."

"Becker _wanted_ to die. He sought out a walker and got bit after getting me drunk and markin' me up." Beth spared a glance Daryl's way. His eyes were swollen, but not significantly damaged. Beth dropped her cheek onto the concrete.

 _This wasn't how he deserved to see this…_

Inhalin', Beth slid her eyes back, trying to look over her shoulder. "I got the wings to prove it if you don't believe me."

He didn't. Shoutin' in her ear, he grabbed her neck and easily clenched his fingers tightly around the curve there. " _You?_ A pathetic, weak flesh eater caught in the web after nearly getting yourself molested or killed?"

The whispers got a little louder. Ringing in her ears sounded. However, Beth focused on the ground long enough to quiet them don a bit. "See for yourself." Beth grabbed her other sleeve and pulled it up. The tattoo read easily underneath the daylight.

"No! No fucking way..."

Swallowing, Beth reached for his hand. He instantly dropped her. "He chose me."

"You're out of your mind!" Haas shouted.

Daryl stretched out his hand and nearly landed on her hand steadying herself on the cement. Haas grabbed her by the shoulder and hauled her to her feet, spinnin' her away from him. He grabbed her shirt's fabric and yanked it right off her body. Beth gasped, crossing her arms over her chest.

Haas clutched her hair and threw her to the ground, head bouncin' on the hard ground near Daryl. Beth cried out, but kept her eyes on Daryl's. He looked like hell…

"I don't believe it…" Haas uttered over her shoulder. The tip of his knife trailed the healing scars of the large tattoo on her back. Daryl chanced a look up at her back. Upon his eyes landing on her naked skin, he swallowed.

His brows pinched. His eyes snapped back onto her. "Those are…" he said.

Haas laughed out loud. His laughter drowned out everyone else. Beth held Daryl's gaze. When Haas quieted, he sniffled. "Ain't this some picturesque romance novel we got going on?" The blade dug into her back at the center of her spine, causing Beth to suck in a breath and grit her teeth against each other. "These here nearly match the wings on that vest I see on that man there! His knife pointed at Becker's signature under the curve of the left wing and chuckled softly. "So _this_ is Romeo?" Beth heard Haas withdraw a gun.

Roughly, he reached her shoulder and flipped her over, straddlin' her narrow frame and crounchin' over her real low. Beth tried to cover her chest from this awful excuse of a man, but he caught her attempt and held her hands down, gun pointing at Daryl's head. "Princess, the more you move, the more tempted I am to blast his head off."

Beth's eyes finally glazed in a thick sheet of moisture. Tears quickly released. However, she no longer resisted the man above her.

Haas mockingly shouted, "Yippee ki yay." He howled and his gang brothers joined in.

Beth closed her eyes, quieting the whispers down slightly. She hadn't heard them gettin' louder. Something flooded her veins. When she opened her eyes, she noticed him leaning in closer.

 _An opening…_

When he got as close as she needed him to, she slammed her head into his. His gun slipped out of his hand as he retracted his hands to cover his head wound. Beth reached for it and slid it to Daryl, who shot the guy over him in the arm. Haas struggled back up, his back facing Beth. She jumped on, wrapping her hands around to the front of his throat. When he realized what was happening, he backed into a wall, jamming her into it with all his weight. The bang caused her vision to blur until her ears rang.

Daryl whipped in front of him and readied the gun to fire. "Famous last words, asshole?"

"Don't, Daryl!" Beth said, straining behind the bulky man. Haas gagged. Daryl closed in and stuck the tip of the gun to Haas' forehead. "Don't kill him. Need him alive."

Daryl never looked away from Haas, who dropped to his knees. Beth didn't relent. "If Becker didn't entrust the guys to me, I wouldn't know you're incredibly asthmatic." She increased the pressure. "Would I?" Haas tried saying somethin', but it went unheard. "I'm gonna let you go because I promised Beck I wouldn't kill you before he died. We're gonna work this all out, and you're going to help make this right."

Haas coughed, but Beth only let him go when he moved away from the wall. She stumbled toward Daryl, who had shrugged off his vest and offered it to her. Taking it, she met his eyes for only a second until he pointed the gun out to the large man by Rick. The guy glanced down at the subdued Haas and then at Beth. Eventually, he lowered his gun.

A fraction of a second later, Michonne and Rick tightened their frames as they moved in sync to collect the guy's gun and other visible weapons. Michonne held out the gun to his head while Ric patted down his body for other weapons. Carl stood up and tried movin' toward Beth, but Daryl whistled at him with a shake a' his head. The boy winced and knelt down with a hiss.

The moment surged, powered by a wave of relenting men lowering their guns or knives. Most of 'em glanced down at Haas, eyes allowing everyone to view their confliction. Becker, the son of a crooked bar owner and a drug-induced stripper, was right. Takin' Haas down told the guys just who was the rightful leader - even though she still didn't know for sure if she'd want the role.

Various members of the compound walked up to the men and claimed the weapons, turnin' them against the men. Daryl glanced over his shoulder at Beth, noddin' twice before tiltin' his head at Haas. Those blue eyes confused the daylights out a' her. Somehow, his black pupils expanded slightly, yet also grew smaller - almost simultaneously. He wiped his forehead and moved some of the hair out of his face. His eyes were calm, but his mouth was thin, hard. Lookin' down at his hands, she noticed he flexed his fingers, almost as if he was trying to will his crossbow into existence.

"How'd they subdue the entire compound?" Beth quietly asked.

But Daryl didn't answer her. He just stood there and continued to look at her - eyes a hybrid of a glare and questioning.

A throat off to the side cleared. Rick stepped to her. "Snuck in through the back. Got to our medical supplies first and then took over our armory after beatin' Carol pretty badly and takin' her captive." He glanced off to the side a bit, but eventually looked her square in her eyes again. "Maggie's off somewhere...also a hostage. Sent Glenn to find her, but I haven't heard any gunfire. I assume they got him, too."

One of the unfamiliar guys stepped forward, but Rick snapped his gun toward him. Throwin' up his hands, the guy adorned in all black leather sighed. "Haas wanted Beth. A few of the others needed medical shit for cuts, aches, or scrapes." Beth's brow rose. "Haas has the walkie. Use it to chill the others out. They'll listen to whoever holds it. It's how we work since all the dead rising and shit." The guy's thick New York accent embellished words Beth had only heard a few times.

"How many of you are there?" she asked.

The man swallowed, eyes hard on hers. "Seventeen if you include our women."

"And men?"

"Fourteen."

"So few of you left?"

Daryl chuckled softly over her shoulder. "You call seventeen few?"

The man risked a glance at Daryl. "Beth here called up a herd the night Becker and all of us separated. Few weeks ago? We had over seventy-six."

Rick clicked his gun to the ready. "Called a herd?"

The man looked at Rick. "Haas threw a flesh eater on her. Got bit. Hundreds of them came. We had to flee our base."

"Maverick...did he make it?" Beth asked. Daryl looked at her oddly. "He was in the basement when everything...happened."

"Kid's all right. He's a swift son of a bitch," the man told her quickly. "He's here. He has the other walkie."

"What's your name?" she asked softly.

"Call me Tango."

A frown twisted across her mouth. Beth looked over her shoulder, seeing Haas clutch his throat. She stumbled closer to him and fell before him. "You look at me, y'hear?" Dark eyes locked onto hers. Beth made sure her voice stayed peaceful, calm, and quiet. "If you ever lay so much as a fingernail on Daryl, my family, or a helpless person again, I will personally strip you bare and peel the skin right off that beloved dick a' yours and make you dream for such a peace as death."

Beth held out her hand. "The walkie, please." It only took a few second's delay until Haas relented. "Maverick?" she quietly spoke into the walkie.

"Beth?"

"Haas is down, and I have the the mark and wings. Tell me how many a' mine you got holed up."

Static rang a moment, but eventually, his voice came through. "We got three. An old lady, a brunette, and an Asian."

Beth clenched the button again. "Bring 'em here."

"O...kay…"

"Alive and unharmed from this moment on. _All_ of them."

The line fuzzed until the other end clicked. "Be there shortly."

When she turned around, she saw Rosita, Sasha, and the man she'd stabbed, Abraham near Rick and Daryl. Abraham stumbled a bit, leanin' on Rosita's dainty shoulder for needed support. "We should kill these sons of bitches."

Beth's brows pinched. "Ain't nobody gonna die needlessly."

"Young lady," Abraham said, tone clipped and eyes fierce, "No offense, but we don't follow your lead here."

Beth stumbled closer to Rick. "No one's shootin' nobody."

Rick didn't spare Abraham a glance. His eyes held hers with as much force she sent his way. Swallowing, he lowered his gun. "She saved Carl. We listen to her judgement until they give us a reason not to."

Beth smiled. "Thank you."

 **. . . . . . . . . . . .**

With Haas and a few of the more rowdy men tied up, the group stood close together. Maggie had a black eye and Glenn was stabbed in the forearm by a small pocket knife a bit. He needed stitches, but for now, he was satisfied just havin' it tied.

Sasha held her rifle and stayed near the few free men and women sitting on the concrete. Abraham and Rosita watched the ones that were restrained.

Rick, Michonne, Daryl, Maggie, Carol, and Beth bickered over what exactly they should do with the seventeen additions.

"We got nowhere to put seventeen prisoners. Besides, if they gon' eat, they may as well work." Daryl pointed out. He looked to Beth for a moment before glancin' at Carol. "Look at those muscles. Let _them_ reinforce the walls while we watch. It's about time we catch a break."

Carol's emotions spiked. "You're just gonna let 'em walk around after what they did to me?"

Rick held out his hand. "No one said that, Carol. I promise they will not get away with what damage they caused. We're gonna make it right."

"From what you all are saying, it sure sounds that way!" she roared. Crossing her arms, she glanced behind her shoulder to the woman who'd nearly tortured her. "They're all dangerous. And you said it yourself yesterday: we can't spare any resources for more people. WE're barely stayin' afloat with the current residents as it is!"

Michonne captured Rick's hand, lowering it as he lifted it as he tried to respond. "We'll make them work for their share. We have housewives, children, and men who can't shoot living here. This is an opportunity to gain some overdue muscle."

Carol cursed and started hollering at Michonne and Rick. Beth stood quiet listenin' for a few seconds until she cleared her throat. Was _this_ how it was back at the prison? Her bright eyes held Carol's. "What would you like to be done?" Her voice was calm, soothing, and respectful. Those were the first words the girl had spoken to the older woman since her arrival.

None of their differences mattered. There was no reason she couldn't get along with her. Carol and Beth had no real qualms between each other aside from an incredibly awkward moment. Beth wanted to move past all that if she could. There was virtually no point for holdin' onto that.

Carol looked at her oddly, calming down slightly. "What?" she asked.

"These men are my responsibility now. Whatever they've done, I'll accept full responsibility. I want everyone to be comfortable with the decision the group makes. No one should be excluded from it," Beth said, her voice quiet and honest. A flash of Dale sitting on top of his RV entered her mind. She hadn't known him, but she'd always remember his kindness to her and how he respected her family when he was alive.

"What I want is to feel comfortable and safe in the walls that keep walkers and people like them out of here," Carol answered.

Beth glanced to Rick. "Might I nominate Carol to lead a the initiative of collectin' the group's belongings and clothes for searching? She could be in charge of assignin' them living arrangements, new clothes, and jobs within the community along with maybe myself and Michonne."

Rick's eyes flashed to Daryl from Beth's. The exchange was quick, but she didn't miss it. "This is between me, Carol, you, and the new group."

"Just said it's a group decision," Daryl argued.

Beth met his gaze. "The overall decision should be, but this idea isn't in the runnin' yet," she replied. Beth moved her focus from Daryl to Rick. "If Carol agrees, I think it could work."

Carol stepped forward. "I agree."

Rick spared his attention to the others in their circle. When no one offered any other ideas or complaints, he nodded. "This'll work on a trial basis. Carol will be in charge of holding onto their belongings until we account for everything in the batch along with Maggie. Michonne will work with Alexandrians for spare new clothing, living arrangement, and such. Glenn, you'll head up the jobs for each of them."

Maggie cleared her throat, while Glenn nodded. Together, they held each other while their focus remained glued to Rick.

"Beth and Daryl," Rick started. "Come with me. I have something more appropriate for you both." He turned around, hollering for Carl, who had Judith on the ground. Carl stood up and Rick moved to collect Judith. Turning to Michonne, Rick said, "Come find me when you're no longer needed." The blond woman Rick was perhaps with walked his direction, but he ignored her on his way back to Beth and Daryl. "Let's go."

 **. . . . . . . . . . . .**

"You both look like shit," Rick said, standin' in the master bedroom of the main house they'd claimed.

Daryl leaned against the doorway with an ice pack over his face, grunting a noncommittal reply. Beth sat on the bed near Carl and Judith.

Rick paused, lookin' down at the baby girl with a small smile. "Carl, what you're about to hear, don't repeat it to anyone under any circumstances. We can't create a panic in the community."

Carl nodded softly, looking at Judith while she played with his fingers. "Whatever, dad. You know I can keep a secret."

Rick knelt in front of Beth and reached for her hands. "What you did for my boy...I can never repay that debt."

"There's no debt, Rick." He owed her nothing. Carl was family. That was that. He was as much a brother as Shawn had been.

Rick choked on a sob. "You don't get it." He inhaled. "I-I-I…" Sniffling somewhat, he met her eyes. "Ain't got much left, but you put yourself through pure hell to make sure my boy stayed safe. You walked that mile back to the car and walked that last half mile all while carrying the bag…" Rick lowered his jaw, mouth opening while he exhaled. " _You_ are such a value to us, Beth. You've never once asked for anything in return."

"Never asked for anything in return?" she echoed bitterly. "I ain't doin' this for recognition, Rick. I'm doing all a' this to...for...the family. Our family."

Rick closed his eyes and bowed his head. "The way that came out...it's not quite what I meant…" He shook his head a bit. "There's a very bad, _bad_ group around the area who we believe doesn't know our settlement exists quite yet." Rick looked up at her. "We need these people to work out. Otherwise…"

"We won't lose this place like we lost the farm or the prison," Daryl finished, glancing down at her. "Can't keep runnin'. Time to settle…"

"Settling is just as dangerous, though." Beth knew that from her experience on her own and at the prison. "You gain a sense of normality and get too cozy. You lose sight of what's around you."

Rick's hands tightened on hers. "You're this community's best asset, Beth. You're our best hope for survival if we go to war with this area's groups."

"War?" Beth questioned. "Just how bad is this?"

"Ain't bad yet," Daryl answered. Beth glanced up to him. He lowered his ice pack. "I left with Maggie and Glenn because they asked me to go, but that ain't the reason I'd just pick up and leave ya without a word, Beth. You're pissed off at me, and I think I get why. If that's it, know Rick asked me to check in on a nearby group a scouter found a few days' back. When we got to the settlement, it was burnt to a crisp." Daryl spared his attention to Rick. "We need muscle, firepower, training, and you."

Something in her mind clicked into place. "You think I'm goin' away don't you?"

Rick held her down when she tried to stand. "Beth," he said. "We don't know what you're planning - if anything at all. So far, your first week here started rough. In the meantime, Maggie's been overwhelmin' you to reconnect and you saved Carl from the walker yesterday."

"And any of that tells you I'd leave...how?"

"You're not reintegratin' as others expected you to. Some feel we'll reach a point when we need you, but you won't need us," Rick replied.

Beth laughed, her bitterness obvious to those within a mile's radius from her. "You think that's who I am now?"

Daryl straightened. "That ain't what he meant."

Rick let her stand up, looking grateful he had her full attention. "Beth, I want you here regardless of whatever has happened. In one week, you've done more for this group than all of us have combined in nearly a year. I wanted you to know that I value you and consider you a member of our council when you're ready to step up. After you've healed up a bit, of course."

"What do you need me to do?" Beth asked, her tone monotonous.

"I hear a party's bein' organized in your honor. I think people are saying something about a belated birthday? Regardless, after you and Daryl heal up and recoup some strength, some people located a construction site with the right amount of supplies and materials we'd need to fortify this place up tight."

Daryl stepped into the room. "What's the problem?"

"Walkers."

"Ain't nothin'," Daryl said under his breath.

Rick stood up and looked to him. " _Thousands_ of 'em."

"So we steer 'em away from here," Beth offered. "Any explosives will only drawn more walkers and destroy what materials are left there in the process."

"Not to mention draw the attention of every settlement in the area," Daryl said, crossin' his arms across his chest.

Rick looked to her again. "You can get close. _Real_ close. You draw them out and meet up with Daryl on his bike. You drive 'em far away from here. We're thinkin' west or back toward D.C."

"Why isn't this a more pressin' issue, Rick?" Daryl asked.

Rick sighed. "Thankfully, construction equipment and machinery are holdin' them in. A few strays get through, but not too many can pass."

Beth moved her hand onto her opposite elbow. "I'll need at least a week. Realistically. I'm still healin' from past stuff. Add on last night and today...and I'm in no shape to support Daryl with anything more than huntin' or trackin'."

"That's fair," Rick said. "Speakin' of hunting, I'm replacing you, Daryl, with Michonne. She knows how to set up and check traps. That should be enough to get you through a few days' rest."

"Fine," he quickly added with a shrug.

Carl moved Judith into his lap. "Guess I'll be gettin' some breaks with Judith while we all heal together…"

"You should cherish every moment that girl's in your arms, Carl," Beth passively said. The boy looked up at her, eye and brows fidgeting curiously. Beth crossed her arms. "She hardly lets me get within three feet of her before she starts whinin'."

Rick placed a hand on her shoulder. "It'll just take time. It's been quite a while since she last saw you."

Beth shook her head. "It ain't that." The corner of her mouth twitched, but her eyes stayed on Judith. "Kids just...know."

The baby girl laughed up at Carl, who pointed to Beth slightly. When she settled her big eyes on her, Judith started to cry lowly. Rick swallowed. "Know what?"

Beth's eyes stared down at Judith, who shifted uncomfortably. Her fingernails clenched, digging into her elbows. The baby's cries grew into wails over the span of a minute or so. No matter how much Beth knew she should look away to relieve the poor little girl's fears, she remained fixated until memories at the prison flooded her thoughts.

All the little secrets she'd poured into this girl, all the promises of a brighter tomorrow, and every vow of love and show of affection flashed across her eyes as if they were happening all at once. Beth hissed and winced as her nails dug too deeply into her skin, drawin' blood. Daryl neared her, but she just looked at Carl.

A glimpse of rebellion lingered in his eyes. _No…_ His eyes moved to his father. "In the car yesterday, she said something about being the livin' version of the walkers."

"Carl!" Beth shouted. "Like hell you can keep secrets!"

Daryl shook her arm a bit, but she couldn't risk lookin' up to him - not without completely crushing her control. "What?"

Rick's attention moved to Carl in Beth's peripheral vision. "What does that mean?"

"She thinks she may turn into a monster...specifically." Carl had the decency to look sorry.

"That's the last time I tell _you_ anything!" Beth quietly said as she pulled herself from Daryl's grasp and hobbled out of the room.

Carl called after her, but she tore through the hallway past the coat closet she'd hidden in a week earlier. The door slammed behind her, causin' her to look over her shoulder. Seeing Daryl stalk after her, Beth bit her lip and hurried, causin' her body to go wobbly and unsteady in her efforts to place as much distance between her and this man as possible.

His strides were quicker. _He_ hadn't suffered an entire night with a hellish fever and nearly swollen ankles. She must've twisted something during her trek yesterday.

"Stop!" He sounded desperate.

"I need to change."

"I can help…you find clothes! Help you find clothes!"

Beth whipped around, causin' him to stop dead in his tracks. "I'm not an invalid!" Beth made to turn, but he held her there by her upper arm.

"Don't walk away from me."

Tears burned her eyes. " _Don't walk away from you_?"

"Shit, I ain't sayin' this right…"

"As I remember, it was _you_ who left without so much as a word early in the mornin', Daryl."

"Beth, I'm sorry. You haven't been sleepin' well the last few days. I didn't want to wake you up."

"Is this how it is now?"

Daryl's brows dipped. "Say what now?"

"Before it was about us as a team. Workin' together for _everything_. Confidin' in each other...to help each other." Beth huffed loudly. Some of her hair moved with the burst of air from her mouth. "Now? Now it's all about keeping me in the dark again - just like at the prison."

"It ain't like that-"

"The hell it ain't! You and Rick just love lookin' at each other for everything. I get that I died and was gone a while, but you didn't have to erase me so easily!"

Daryl let her go like she was on fire. He stumbled back a few paces and shoved a hair in his hair as he looked at her like she was crazy, eyes narrowin' and mouth thin tight. "You think I _erased_ you, huh?" His breath shuddered. "I can't look at you right now."

"Daryl…"

"Fuck no, Beth!" He pointed away from them at nothing in particular. "You think I walked away from seeing you gone - _again_ \- and started pickin' some daisies with Carol or Rick off the side a' the road on the way to a God damned picnic or somethin'?"

His hand covered his eyes, and he sagged against the wall a bit. "You ain't never gonna know what I was like after losing you _twice_." His shoulders shook and his chest caved, heavin' under the pressure boiling at his throat. When he looked up at her, his eyes were harsh, cold, and hateful. He breathed through his nose, pointed down at her. Tears threatened to spill over the sides of his lids. "Why the fuck did you even bother comin' back if you were just gonna spend all your time pushin' all a' us away?"

"I ain't pushin' nobody away, Daryl!"

Daryl scoffed, eyes shuttin' tight before he turned his back to her. "Your age is showin', Beth."

A tight squeeze and sudden tug at her heart made Beth want to vomit. "My age, huh?" The way his mouth thinned into a tight line and his eyes twitched as he scrubbed his hand over his face. A heavy sigh followed in unison with both his hands dropping to his sides. Posture bent, she noticed his eyes on his own feet.

 _The signs are all there. You just gotta know how to read 'em._

Back when he'd said those words while she held onto his crossbow, she'd only scratched the surface with him. Everything he said could lead to an infinite number of possible meanings. At least then, she'd known him a bit better.

Beth used to know how to get around what he said to get to the bottom of what he was _sayin'_. His aggressive, impulsive personality accompanied by his infamous short temper had once made sense. Knowing it no longer did struck her nearly to her knees.

Daryl had gotten to know the faithful, innocent orphan who still believed the world could be good. That's who he'd mourned those weeks or months without her. It was who he probably wanted in place of this darker, bloodthirsty shell she'd become. Pursuin' him and allowin' him to know of her existence weren't right.

It was entirely cruel and selfish of her.

Beth had known of her change. It wasn't hiding. Rather, it shined in plain sight. All her bite scars easily depicted the dwellin' demons just within her head. One day, those demons would whisper too loud, but just loud enough. She could ignore them now, but what about tomorrow or the day after?

"I never should a' came back," she whispered as a tear rushed down her face, fallin' onto her hand.

Daryl raced back toward her, pushin' her against the wall behind her. His chest heaved in sync with hers. His eyes feasted over hers, gluttonous and engorged with a fury she'd not seen in him. He did nothin' to stop his nostrils from flaring or his hot breath from hittin' her skin as he lowered over her until their chests bumping against the other. His brows gathered inward, lowering over his darkened eyes curtained by shivering strands of hair.

"When will you let me in, huh?" Daryl asked, his voice tremblin' but controlled. "It's like the more I try, the more you pull away."

Beth ignored the falling tears. "I'm giving everyone what I can."

" _I_ ain't everybody."

"I'm trying," she firmly retorted. When she tried to move away from him, he held her there with ease. "Daryl, let me go."

"You're so eager to get away from me."

"Maybe you're right."

His brows relaxed and his posture straightened, distancin' him from her a bit. "Right about what?"

"Maybe my age _is_ showin'."

"Beth…"

"Ever since leavin' the farm, all a' y'all have tiptoed on eggshells around me. Never once did any a' you offer to show me how I should take care of myself in this world till you _had_ to," Beth shouted. "You showed I could be strong. The second I got jacked from that funeral home _I_ realized I _had_ to be strong."

Daryl shook his head. "What does that have to do with showin' your age?"

"Daddy held me back just like I held _you_ back."

Lookin' away briefly, he sighed. His chest rose and fell more rapidly. He hell back against the opposite wall. He swallowed, but shifted his eyes back on her. "You never held me back, girl."

"That's just it, though!" Beth shouted. Rolling her eyes with a shake of her head, she raised her hands out in between them. "Even if you left the prison on your own, you'd still make it!"

"Spare me the mental Olympics, girl and make more fucking sense," he retorted. He lifted his hand to his forehead.

"Daddy never lettin' me know what the real world...he practically signed my death warrant! I wasn't ever your partner, Daryl!"

"Bullshit."

"I was a liability."

Daryl stood straight, away from the wall's support. "Say that again, and you won't like what I have to say." Beth groaned and limped into the livin' room. She heard him behind her. When his heated hand grabbed her wrist, she twisted around and leaned away from him with all the force she could muster without falling over. "Quit your walkin' away from me!"

Beth hauled her weight away from him again, which only resulted in him coming toward her. She stepped back and turned around, seein' Michonne and Carol walking into the house. Daryl physically moved her back to face him. "Quit your hands on me, then!"

He didn't let go. He didn't even spare the two women opening the door any mind. He bitterly laughed. "Spoken like a true fuckin' teenager!"

Heat pooled in her chest, swirlin' around and mixing into a tidal wave of rushing emotion. The pocket of warmth radiated until it burned. "That's what I am, Daryl!" She huffed, a quick puff of air. "Maybe that ain't such a bad thing, neither!"

Daryl shoved his hands into his hair, effectively releasin' her for the moment. Michonne cleared her throat, but neither of them acknowledged her. "You're impossible, ya know that?"

"Some old asshole showed me how to have a spine."

Daryl's features tightened as his breathin' stopped. His brows drew closely together as he neared her. "You know, you talk a lot a' shit about monsters and demons.."

" _What_ do you want from me?!" Beth shouted, stumblin' a bit until she stabilized herself. Silence crept into every corner of the room until a pair a' footsteps broke it. In the corner of her eye, she saw Rick enter the main area.

"What's going on?" her asked.

Daryl quickly spoke, so no one had a chance to reply. "I just want you to talk to me!"

"Talk to _you?_ " Beth said as her fists clenched. Every pore on her body moistened with a thin layer of sweat as her eyes glistened. She stepped closer to him and narrowed her eyes. Grinding her teeth, Beth clenched her jaw. "Fine! I'm slowly losin' my mind, Daryl!"

It was clear he was about to say something, but she didn't want to give him the satisfaction. "Sometimes, I remember memories that aren't mine tangle into my own. When I'm particularly stressed out, I hear whispers. I can't understand 'em, but it don't take a Holmes to realize it ain't words, Daryl. It's snarlin' and growlin' just _beggin'_ me to give in!"

Daryl looked around and straightened his posture. "Beth…"

"No! You wanted me to talk," she fought. When a bit of her hair whipped in her face, she huffed again and pushed it out of the way, never breaking eye contact. "So you'll listen!"

Daryl gulped, noddin' slowly.

Beth stepped closer to him slightly. "I'm every bit as bad as Shane." Her voice cracked at the mention of that asshole who tore her whole world apart by simply breaking a chain. "What he did to Otis? I've done several times because it meant I could have a _chance_ to be here. Killin' innocent people for just a _chance?_ " She shrugged. "Who does that?"

Rick stepped closer to her, grabbin' her by the shoulder. "Beth, you're _not_ anything like Shane."

Beth did nothing about Rick's hand on her. Instead, she held Daryl's gaze. "No matter the circumstances, you're always the one who breaks my whole world, Daryl Dixon." He took a step back. "First by shootin' my family and neighbors to prove they were nothin' more than unnatural, mindless corpses. Second by showin' me how useless I used to be. Third by pushin' some a' your strength onto me. Forth...makin' me…" She wiped away at her eyes and sniffled. "And fifth not bein' with me anymore." She glanced over to Rick briefly, but looked to Daryl again after a second. "I've been livin' in the world not being your responsibility."

Something in Daryl's expression relaxed. The shift was so subtle, she hardly noticed it. She couldn't tell what changed, but she only knew something had in the way he looked at her. It was familiar, yet so, _so_ foreign. His eyes never left hers. "You weren't no responsibility, Beth."

His eyes were too heavy - both with his thoughts she could decode and with the weight of his open, vulnerable emotions directed completely at her. He wiped at his mouth, but watched her. Beth finally looked away.

Thankfully, Michonne moved toward her, taking her place next to Rick. "Beth, we're all a little crazy," she warmly said, laughter lingering underneath her soft tone. "We've all had to do things we'll never be proud of."

"I've bitten a man's throat out," Rick interrupted. Clearin' his throat, she noticed his eyes move back to her from Daryl. "It was after we fled the prison."

"Spare me the details," Beth replied, her tone calmer, more at ease.

"My point is that you're not the only one who suffers from the past," Michonne said, effectively cutting further discussion off. "You've always been one of us. We all had our jobs; however, now our family is smaller. We've adapted as best as we could."

Beth glanced at Michonne and chuckled softly, wiping at her eyes. "Adapted…"

"Exactly."

"What I'm evolving? What happens if I start turnin' without dying?"

Michonne steadied Beth by placing her hands on either shoulder, expertly moving Rick away. "All of us have our questions, Beth. I won't lie. Last night...it was the most grotesque thing I've seen in all of this."

Beth swallowed.

"None of that matters until it becomes relevant."

Beth reached for her wrist, curlin' her fingers 'round the natural curve of her small bone there. "How can you say that?"

Michonne smiled until it actually dissolved any trace of doubt in Beth. "We got you back, Beth. To a lot of us, you represent a miracle. To all of us, you were our light in all of this." Michonne lifted her hand to touch Beth's chin. "You'll get that back. I know it."

The woman wrapped her arms around Beth's thin, narrow frame, but Beth didn't return it immediately. As they stood there, Carol caught Beth's attention. She smiled softly down at Beth, but somethin' in her mind worked in perfect unison. She didn't quite have the same faith in her as Michonne said she did. That was something Beth could work with.

A small smile tugged Beth's mouth up, eyes still on Carol. Eventually, Beth weakly lifted her arms and touched Michonne's arms, dropping her gaze from Carol.

"Let's get some fresh air," Michonne suggested while she pulled away. Rick grunted a weak reply. Whether he approved or disagreed, she couldn't quite tell. Michonne pulled away and tilted her head at Carol toward the door. "Let's go."

Rick followed the two women outside, leavin' Beth and Daryl within. Neither met the other's gaze. Both stood like an idiot in the middle of the living room. A light tension built in Beth's stomach. She heard Daryl clear his throat as he started to walk toward the stairs.

"I-I'm sorry…" Beth mumbled, rubbing her arm up and down a bit. Her eyes lifted quickly, seein' his eyes on her again. Beth moved her eyes back to the floor.

She only heard his footsteps near her and the feel of his hand perfectly fit along the curve of her shoulder - right over her original bite mark. He grunted in reply, but he didn't move away. Instead, he moved his thumb against her scarred skin a few times until she gathered the courage to look his way. When her eyes met his, he shook his head and cleared his throat, snatchin' his hand off her.

For another couple of seconds, they stood there, immobile. Beth looked at him, but he glanced at the wall away from her. He curled his fist and lifted it over his mouth as he cleared his throat again. Swallowing loudly, Daryl uttered, "See ya…"

Daryl moved up the stairs away from her, but she was strangely grateful for the distance. This time, not for the reprieve of his company, but for the tightness in her stomach's easin' out. She stood there for a few more seconds after his footsteps died upstairs. A small smile stretched across her mouth. She covered her mouth with her hand.

Nothin' was solved.

Her daddy was still dead. She still had murdered a few people. Walkers still roamed about. The world still turned. However, a small piece of her heart started beatin' again.

And that amazed the shit out a' her. Outside, people waited for her. If that ain't a way to end a day…

Somethin' in the back of her mind froze her when she reached the door knob. The entire compound saw her nearly fully naked. Her stomach twisted. Vomit threatened to rise from her belly. Her eyes watered.

Progress, in any dose, was good, but hell if she didn't feel dirty, exposed. Hidin' for one night wouldn't harm nobody. Quietly, she backed away from the front door and snuck upstairs to Carl's room, cursin' her body for bein' so weak for the moment. Every muscle was on fire.

Right as she opened the door, Daryl coughed. "You followin' me up here?"

Beth turned slightly. "I don't know how to face the entire safe zone after havin' my body on display like that…"

Daryl moved toward her like he walked on glass. When he got to her, he leaned against the wall near the door frame on his shoulder. He picked his thumbnail and glanced down. "You're gonna start tellin' me shit now?"

"It's what you want, ain't it?"

Daryl's eyes landed on hers. "Yeah…"

"Well, all right, then," she replied softly. Her eyes moved to his fidgetin' hands. Swallowing, she reached out her hand to his. Before they touched, she kept her hand frozen above his. Only when she exhaled did she finish the way. After a moment, he moved a few of his fingers to curl around her hand.

"Daryl, I need your help." Beth glanced up at him, noticin' just how close he was now. She blinked quickly a few times, waitin' for his reply. He didn't. Shakin' her head somewhat, she rushed toward him, wrappin' her arms around him. He stepped back in response to the movement against him, but he slid his arm around her shoulders. Her cheek raised against his chest. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath and smellin' him in the process. She opened her eyes. "Don't let me go."

The hallway's darkness clashed with the lamp within Carl's room. Shadows tangled up in their embrace. Daryl moved so that his back was against the wall. His other arm wrapped around her, his hand tracing the wings on his vest. She hadn't remembered she wore it.

This was her second chance at a life with people she loved. Beth needed to find a way out of whatever hole her mind was in, so she could start livin' again. She tightened her arms around him, grabbing each of her wrists and tuckin' her head under Daryl's chin. She stared into the darkness, but only felt the light in her arms.

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